


The Beginnings of fate

by Emeraldeyes67



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Drarry, Good Draco Malfoy, M/M, Mentor Severus Snape, Multi, Tom Riddle's Diary, draco gets the diary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 10:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldeyes67/pseuds/Emeraldeyes67
Summary: Draco Malfoy got the Dark Lord's diary in his second year of Hogwarts. After a series of events in Flourish and Blotts prevented Lucius Malfoy from giving the diary to Ginny Weasley, he entrusts his son to give the diary to her instead. Draco, overcome with curiosity, instead keeps the book to examine, and soon becomes heavily enchanted with the mysterious boy named Tom Riddle. Meanwhile, Harry Potter must summon all the courage he can to confront his rival about his sickly appearance and odd behavior. Will he be able to save Draco from the presence of Voldemort, or will Draco succumb to the power of the mysterious Tom Riddle?
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Daphne Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Minerva McGonagall, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy & Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy & Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Petunia Evans Dursley/Vernon Dursley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 134





	1. The Ring of Fate

It really had been a lovely summer so far. Draco Lucius Malfoy had been enjoying the warmth that the summer season brought, and had taken to flying around outside the manor most of the summer. His father hadn’t been around much, and with Blaize gone to Italy for most of the summer, Draco didn’t actually get much quidditch practice in- just flying. He supposed he had improved his seeker skills, what with all the “seeker games” he’d participated in (or, rather, him just absentmindedly releasing the snitch only to catch it again minutes later, repeating the action till he grew tired of it and resorted to flying around the grounds. Testing out his broom’s speed.)

His father hadn’t been around much either, staying out late at the ministry or taking to his office almost as soon as he got home. He had, however, surprised Draco a week or two into the break with the promise of a new broom. Draco had gotten nearly perfect scores on his exams, only beaten just barely by that muggleborn girl.

‘Granger’ he scowled. Of course she would get the top marks, that bloody know it all was simply infuriating. And of course she had to be friends with Potter. He was even more annoying than her, and that in itself was honestly impressive. But, although Granger's continuous babbling about what she'd read on just about anything was enough to make Draco greatly annoyed, nobody got his blood boiling quite like Potter did.

Just thinking about him put Draco in an awful mood. Potter, the boy who’d taken Ronald Weasley’s hand in friendship rather than his. And then, to top it all, he had the headmaster wrapped around his finger; the precious golden boy of Gryffindor, who had earned points along with his friends for doing just about nothing right before Slytherin had rightfully won the house cup. Because, honestly, why wouldn’t he? Every professor there practically adored him anyways- except Snape of course, but then, the man usually disliked just about anyone outside of Slytherin house.

However, he supposed some of his hard work had paid off in the end. Despite getting the second best scores in his year, he had still pleased his parents enough for him to receive the promise of getting the best broom model released as of now. The Nimbus 2001 was rumored to be excellent, brilliantly fast and yet smooth enough to make the sharpest turns at the last moment. It would be wonderful to fly on. As he felt the wind wrap around him Draco realized he really had missed flying the most while at Hogwarts. He’d simply been too distracted with his classes and getting acquainted with the older Slytherins in his house to really notice, he'd supposed.

As he pressed his body closer to the broom to double his speed he felt the most content he’d felt all break. Yes, he’d already been flying quite a lot, but this was different. The other times he’d been all wound up over his father's mysterious disappearance as of late. It was like Draco hardly saw him this summer. And, aside from being at Hogwarts, he’d never gone without seeing his father quite so much. Even worse was that his mother had seemed to be taking this just as hard. It seemed father hadn’t told her anything because she simply didn’t seem to have the slightest clue as to what Lucius had been so preoccupied with- that much was revealed a few nights ago at dinner, when Draco had finally worked up the courage to ask about Lucius’s consistent absences. All he’d received in return from his mother was a slight frown and a quick dismissal of the topic, but through her façade he could clearly tell the matter was just as troubling to her as it had been to Draco.

No matter, it was all settled now. His father had come out of office yesterday in the middle of dinner with a smile on his face, surprising both him and his mother greatly. Without a word he’d settled down at the head of the table, Draco on his right, and summoned Dobby, the family’s house elf.

“Dobby, bring my dinner in the dining room. I’ll be joining my family tonight,” he’d proclaimed. And, as soon as he’d said that, a smile immediately found its way on Draco's face. He was usually much better at concealing his emotions, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t eaten with his father in weeks, and now it appeared his father was finally completed with whatever task he’d been working on.

The young Malfoy had been so excited he hadn’t even realized that Dobby had indeed already transported Luicius’s dinner to the dining table with a loud “Pop!”

And, sitting there with his father finally present, Draco couldn’t find it in himself to be discouraged over anything anymore. Not his father's absences- as he had finally retreated from his office- or his marks, Blaize’s last minute trip to Italy when he’d simply been stuck in the Manor all summer, and most certainly not Potter. No, he’d waited too long for this moment. As his mother and father engaged in a quiet conversation, Draco realized his parents finally seemed relaxed for the first time since Draco had left for his first year at Hogwarts.

It only got better from there, because after dinner Lucius had directed the new branch of conversation at Draco specifically. “Draco, you should be getting your Hogwarts list in a few days right?” He’d asked.

Quickly, Draco had looked up from the table to meet his father's neutral grey eyes, the ones he was quite proud to say were very much resembling of his own. “Yes father, I believe it should get here soon,” he’d answered.

“Well then, your mother went with you to get your supplies last year, so I think it's only fitting if I go with you this year. Besides, I have a stop to make in Knockturn alley anyways.”

Draco's eyes widened and his lips curved upwards in delight; he hadn’t been to Knockturn alley before, only peered into the alley from the street that adjoined Diagon. His mother never let him down there, no matter how much he’d pleaded.  
“Lucius, is that really a good idea? You know as well as I do that Knockturn is no place for a child,” Narcissa had input, sending her husband a questioning look. Obviously the matter hadn’t been talked over with his mother yet.

“Now now dear, it’ll all be fine. Draco will be perfectly unharmed so long as he stays by my side. Is that clear then Draco?” Lucius asked, turning the conversation back to him.

Eager to impress his father, Draco instantly nodded. Making it abundantly clear he was fully intending to stick with his father if that meant he could go to Knockturn. He knew his father would be impressed with his maturity, and his mother as well after she got over her initial worry, if his trip to Knockturn Alley went off without a hitch. Plus, it would earn him some serious bragging rights when he went back to school- he just knew that Theodore Nott had been begging his father to take him into Knockturn Alley since he was little. Much like he had been doing he’d supposed. Either way, It’d be an overall beneficial trip for him in the long run.

“I don’t know Lucius…” Narcissa worried. She often didn’t express her concern over many things, but when it came to her son, she was the typical protective mother.

“Now, Narcissa, the boy has agreed to stay by my side the entire time. No one would dare hurt him if he’s in my presence. Not to mention he’s already 12, a perfectly acceptable age to be making trips into Knockturn Alley so long as he is accompanied by an adult. Stop fussing over the matter,” Lucius clearly wanted to make the point known. Plus, he’d already been making comments since Draco was 11 that Narcissa had to stop worrying over him so much someday; that he was getting much too old for all the coddling.

Narcissa frowned, clearly displeased with her husband. She’d heard his say on the matter of her protective nature many times, but that wasn’t to say she agreed with it. She knew Draco was getting older, and though she didn’t want to admit that she would need to start giving him more space the older he got, she did acknowledge it. But that still wouldn’t curb her worry for her son's safety any less. Especially when it came to something like Knockturn Alley; Honestly, what was Lucius thinking? This whole idea was just plain senseless.

Narcissa pursed her lips together and met Lucius’s steely gaze. She really did try to be sensible when it came to Lucius’s say on how Draco should be brought up. The pureblood customs, for example, where indefinitely things she agreed with and wished for Draco to be exposed to. The same with some basic dark magic knowledge- afterall, most dark curses really weren’t evil or anything. In fact, they only got a bad reputation because of muggleborn ideals; often ones from the medieval age no less. She scoffed, ‘and they call pureblood traditions ancient.’ However, when it came to things that could put her son in danger, or things severely outdated, she wouldn’t hesitate to protest against Lucius’s aspirations for their son.

Such as Knockturn Alley. Yes, she didn’t mind the boy's exposure to dark magic, but she did know what went on down in the alley. She was no fool. The artifacts they often labeled as “dark” really did interchange nicely with “evil.” They were single handedly the epitome of evil, and they really didn't do justice to actual dark artifacts- of which many had been designed to help instead of harm. No, the Alley itself was a suspicious and profoundly immoral place. Which really was a shame, as it had once been a place meant to accept and honor the witches and wizards with a taste for dark magic. Though that was, of course, before the war, Narcissa mused.

Shifting her reminiscing thoughts back onto the matter at hand, Narcissa decided to make it a point to show Lucius how unhappy and unsure she was with the prospect of her son- her 12 year old son- going to Knockturn Alley.

“Lucius, perhaps we should discuss this matter privately after dinner, hmm?” Narcissa quipped, never breaking eye contact with her husband- instead narrowing her eyes further, hoping to get her point across.

“But mother-“ Draco started. Draco had a pleading look on his face, his eyes wide with desperation. He’d wanted to prove he was old and brave enough to go into Knockturn Alley with his father, and now his mother might forbid him from going.

“Narcissa, be reasonable. He’s plenty old enough, and he’ll be chaperoned. I’m just making a quick stop at Borgin and Burkes and then we’ll leave to get Draco’ school supplies as intended. No secondary trips down the alley, alright dear?” Lucius smiled charmingly, clearly intending to put his wife at ease.

Narcissa’s brows furrowed, but eventually she relented. As soon as she looked back at her son, his pleading expression still in place, Lucius knew he had won. Narcissa sighed, “All right, but no secondary trips as you promised. Borgin and Burkes is usually pretty empty around this time of year, so I doubt you’ll run into any trouble.”

“Thank you mother!” Draco exclaimed, eyes shining with excitement.

“Draco, compose yourself at once,” said Lucius. Though, it was in a less biting tone than usual. Draco guessed he’d understood where his son was coming from. It was his first trip to Knockturn alley after all.

Narcissa smiled warmly at her son before clearing her expression entirely and reassuming that neutral expression she always wore. She was glad she’d been able to make her son so happy. After the boring summer he’d had so far he needed it. Though, in the back of her mind, even with her husband's sure demeanor and her sons smile still alight in his eyes, she felt worried. She knew, theoretically, that as long as Lucius truly did stick to just Borgin and Burkes and then go straight into Diagon, things would be fine. However, as she would much later come to realize, her intuition had indeed been right.

———————————————————————————————————----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco hopped off his broom and cleared his train of thought. Yes, he really did suppose yesterday had been most eventful. And even though he understood his mother's worry he knew things would be ok. He’d have his father there to ensure he was safe, afterall.

Still, just thinking about all the stories he'd heard about Knockturn Alley really did excite him. More importantly, this trip was going to turn out to be one of the best yet- not only did he get to accompany his father on an important errand (whatever it may be), he was also going into Knockturn Alley and, almost certainly, he would be getting his new broom as well. Draco smiled gleefully with his next thought, ‘I suppose the good thing about going shopping for my supplies later in the month means I have a better chance of not running into Potter and his sidekicks.’ Yes, the prospect of this shopping trip seemed to get better and better.

Draco clambered up the small hill leading back up to the manor, intending to wash up before lunch. But, it seemed that just as soon as he reached one of the entrances into his home fate had another idea for him. Because at that moment his eagle owl, Acelin, swooped down towards him and caused Draco to lose his balance, resulting in him flailing around in surprise and ungracefully landing on his knees. With a hiss of pain Draco directed his vision to the bird now swirling around him playfully. Acelin let out a small hoot and landed on Draco’s shoulder, nipping at his ear.

“You're not very proper, are you?” Draco laughed quietly. He’d gotten Acelin two years ago, as a present from Pansy. She’d apparently been drawn to the owl and decided to give him to Draco because “It’s angry expression reminds me of yours.” Either way, his mother had laughed at the small bundle of feathers, causing Draco to scowl- which only proved Pansy correct and caused his mother to laugh even more. His father though, why, he’d been horrified. Acelin was nothing like the refined, disciplined owl he owned- no, quite the opposite. Acelin was always causing mischief, causing mayhem with every delivery.

Like now, he’d supposed. “Fine, let’s see what you’ve got,” Draco sighed, there was no telling what he’d have to put up with when it came to Acelin. Still, he smiled fondly at his bird before looking down at his talons, fully expecting to see a letter in his clutch. When he didn’t see one though, he groaned dramatically and sent a pointed look at the flying menace resting on his shoulder. “Nothing, you knocked me down only to show me you have nothing to give me?”

Acelin sent a pointed look back at Draco, returning his expression, before giving him a slight nudge and flying ‘round the building. Picking up on the hint, Draco begrudgingly followed his owl, knowing that if he didn’t Acelin would only nip at him until he gave in. ‘honestly, being bossed around by an owl. Better not be a dead rat he’s leading me to….again.’

As he neared his owl once more he noticed another owl perched on the tree besides Acelin. The owl looked poised and, if owls could even look annoyed, well… it certainly didn’t appear to be happy with Acelin’s presence. Draco figured it was his father's owl at first, until he looked closer and realized it was one of the school owls. And the owl appeared to be carrying an envelope.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As expected, the school owl had his school supplies letter, which Draco had eagerly opened before running to his parents with the news. The prospect of the trip with his father had only seemed closer then, and Draco was too excited to think of much else for the rest of the following weeks. Now, as he and his father stood in the entryway to Knockturn Alley, Draco was feeling a bit off.

His mother had seen her son and husband off that afternoon with a false smile, clearly still unhappy with the whole trip. Lucius had simply kissed her cheek and given her a reassuring nod before taking his son by the shoulder and apparating away to Diagon Alley. Draco had left feeling elated as ever, but now… ‘No, I was excited for this moment before, I should be excited now. I’m just thinking about this too much, my father would never put me in harm's way,” thought Draco. With that thought of finality, he settled his features into- what he hoped- was a determined expression, and marched onwards with his father.

There appeared to be an almost...gloomy atmosphere about the place. And Draco could’ve sworn he’d seen a vampire (at least from what he’d imagined a vampire would look like based off the details in a book he had read) lurking in the shadows of one of the nearby shops. He himself seemed to feel weighed down by the change in the atmosphere, like a weight of dread was encasing him.

As Draco looked up at his father he realized he didn’t seem to be affected by the place. He had his familiar business like stance held firmly in place, eyes set on the path ahead. Looking around, Draco also observed the way the passerby watched them- they seemed to be wary of his father, clearly straying out of his path. Finally, they came to, what Draco assumed, was their destination.

“Stop looking as if I’m leading you to your death,” Lucius whispered under his breath, sending a displeased glare at his son. He then opened the door to the shop and firmly pushed his son through the entryway, the soft chime of a bell announcing their presence. Draco could’ve sworn he heard a soft scuffling as soon as they’d entered the shop, but as his father didn’t seem to be concerned Draco decided to not think about it too much. Instead, he took in his surroundings, marveling at the artifacts strewn around the little shop.

As he took things in he was acutely aware of a shelf full of sparkling rings- one in particular catching his eye. The ring was...older, with a silver band and a vivid blue stone in its center. It looked to have ancient markings etched into the stone, and Draco stepped forwards to get a better look at the artifact before his father's cane lightly pushed against his foot, causing Draco to avert his attention back to his father's cold gaze. “Touch nothing Draco,” Lucius said in an icy tone.

Draco flushed in embarrassment, he hadn’t meant to be told off like that. He was simply curious. A feeling of fury ignited within him- imagine anyone in his year finding out he had to be told off like a toddler in an antique store. And besides, he wasn’t an idiot- he knew better than to touch potentially cursed items. He also knew he had to shake off this rage somehow, so he settled on venting to his father about the one topic that never failed to make him so riled up he would be practically exhausted by the end of his tirade.

Bad decision, he’d soon discovered. Talking about Potter only resulted in his father lecturing him once more on social connections and the like- fueling his rage further. Before he could throw in another retort a man with a haggled demeanor and black hair stepped up behind the counter. “Ah, Mr. Borgin,” Lucius said, lifting his voice and portraying his perfect pureblood mask once more, the reprimanding tone he used only seconds before gone without a trace.

“Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again,” said Mr. Borgin. He then looked over and Draco, who quickly hid his look of slight disgust and instead settled for the best smile he could manage. ‘I never thought anyone could appear greasier than Snape, but I suppose there was always that possibility,’ Draco thought as he took in Mr. Borgins appearance.

“-And young Master Malfoy, too- charmed. How may I be of assistance?” As Mr. Borgin settled into a conversation with his father Draco continued to look around the shop. He had to admit, the jewels and books did intrigue him, especially the artifacts with the cryptic markings on them. Oh how he’d love to study them further; if only he could just get closer to them to examine the runes. As his attention shifted to another shelf, however, his previous thoughts faded. There was a withered hand on the dusty shelf, looking scarily like a dementor's hand, but intriguing nonetheless.

As Draco read the dust covered gold plaque beneath the hand he became ever more curious. Before he could stop himself he’d blurted out, “Can I have that?” He winced as he realized he’d just interrupted his father's conversation. But, while his father looked irritated, Mr. Borgin appeared delighted, eyes lighting up in glee.

“Ah, the Hand of Glory!” Mr. Borgin proclaimed, bustling over to the youngest Malfoy and completely forgetting his previous client with the hope of making a sale. His shopkeeper persona came on in full force as he explained the hands' purpose. Draco had to admit, this man was oddly good at exaggerating the effects of the product, and a much better businessman than he’d assumed. He supposed this was why his father respected him.

Lucius looked pleasantly unhappy with the scene before him, his son’s uncontrollable impulse was getting to be quite meddlesome really. And if he didn't shape up soon everybody would mistake him for being a bloody Gryffindor. He scowled, and swiftly marched over to his son. “I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin.” With this he sent a cold glare to both the greasy retailer and his son. At least Borgin looked rightfully abashed, his son just looked defiant. Well, he’d just have to fix that.

“Though if his grades don't pick up that may be all he is fit for,” Lucius said in his most crisp tone.

Draco was silently fuming at this point. This was supposed to be a good day, his chance to act the part of a pristine pureblooded wizard, and instead his father was keen on jumping on him for every word he said. ‘Or any thought,’ he internally scoffed. “It’s not my fault. The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger-”

Lucius returned his son’s ire with full force, “I would have thought you’d be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam.” With this, Draco finally backed down. His father was entirely correct. He should’ve been top of his year, with excelling marks, and instead a girl with not even so much as a lick of pureblood status as he had beat him. His ears and cheeks warmed up in embarrassment, and he could've sworn he heard a silent jeer from the back of the shop. ‘Great,’ he glowered, ‘Now even the other employees know of my mishaps.’

As his father and Mr. Borgin continued their discussion, Draco continued to stare sullenly at the shop's treasures. ‘It’s always Potter, Granger, and Weasley who have all the attention and get all the credit. It’s like I’ll never measure up to them,’ thought Draco. Wandering slightly to the back of the shop Draco paused to look around more. ‘More like sulk more.’ And with this he spotted two things out of the corner of his vision. A rustling cabinet and the blue stoned ring from before. Making a quick decision, Draco decided that whatever was in that cabinet couldn't be that interesting. Instead he neared the ring and peered down at the rusty silver plaque.

Anulo Fatum

Brother of three, with fates all aligned, unlock the future, change the time.

Reverse the events that have yet to unfold, tell the story that was never told.

Draco lightly snickered, what sort of nonsense was this? Fate, time? Sounds absurd. Laughable even. However, as Draco looked at the ring closely he couldn't help but feel enticed by the possibility of “changing the future,” whatever that truly entailed. He had always been fascinated by Time Turners, so it would make sense that this object piqued his interest, he mused.

“Done,” Lucius’s voice had snapped Draco out of his pondering. Looking back at his father Draco had begun to saunter back up to the counter and rejoin him. Though, as soon as he’d pivoted around he remembered his father's scalding tone when he had chastised him earlier about his marks and even his interest in the Hand of Glory. He probably wouldn’t take too kindly with his immense captivation with that ring, either. And then, with that thought, he remembered his earlier wishes of wanting to best Potter and his gang. Of wanting to show his parents he could be just as great, that he could measure up to them, to anyone. ‘Just once.’

With that plea he turned to stare longingly at the ring. If it really wasn't a scam, a pretty thing with false promises...he could potentially change the future, whatever it was supposed to look like for him, and maybe...just maybe. ‘Maybe I can finally be just as great. I can be recognized.’ It was a long shot. But he had to take it, it just felt...right.

“Draco, come,” his father barked with an air of finality. With this, Lucius turned around and headed for the exit, and Mr. Borgin slouched to the door behind his counter. With one quick motion, Draco grabbed the ring and stuffed it in his pocket. As he turned to follow his father he remembered Lucius’s previous comment about him amounting to no more than a thief. And so, with a determined gleam in his eyes, Draco turned back around to where the ring used to lay and pulled 7 galleons out of pocket, placing them in the empty space on the shelf. “We’ll see how much of a thief I amount to,” Draco whispered snidely. And, before his father could call out to him again, Draco rushed out the exit of the small shop- toying with the ring now in his pocket and sliding it on his index finger. A smug smile graced his lips.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The ring itself was beautiful, and when it shone in the sunlight you couldn't help but be entranced. Which was exactly how Draco was for most of the day. He stared at the opulent ring in awe, loving how it seemed to dance with the sun's rays. He couldn't even concentrate on his supplies shopping he was so mesmerized. It seemed the only thing to bring him out of this state was the feeling of caution he had carried with him the rest of the trip. For, if his father found out what stunt he had pulled in Borgin and Burkes, he would surely confiscate the ring and return it to that dinghy shop.

This caution though is what saved Draco moments later when his father's question pulled him out of his captivation. If he hadn’t been alert enough to register the question, well...the outcome didn’t look pretty. “Draco, what else is left on the list?”

“Hmm? Oh! Just the textbooks assigned this year father, that’s all.” Lucius looked at his son with curiosity, then met his son’s sheepish gaze as Draco muttered a small apology. Dismissing the issue as childish absentmindedness, Lucius carried on.

“So, Flourish and Blotts then?” With Draco's affirmative nod the pair headed in the direction of the bookstore. Though, as they neared the colorful shop they were both taken by surprise as the usually sparsely inhabited place seemed to swell with customers- particularly excited looking witches. Could this have something to do with the number of Gilderoy Lockhart books on his school supplies list? “Go on in then Draco, get your school books while I wait out here. Merlin knows this place is already crowded enough without both of us going in.”

Draco gave his father a slight nod as he slowly walked into the shop, inattentively holding his book list in his hand. As he entered the shop he immediately headed for the second story of the bookstore, in an attempt to escape the crowd. Luckily, most of his required texts appeared to be on the second story anyways. Key word here being most, for Draco quickly realized none of the Gilderoy Lockhart books were stocked up there. As Draco peered over the railing of the second story to the floor below he saw a huge Gilderoy Lockhart display, taking up an entire shelf- really, you couldn’t miss it.

But of course, Draco couldn’t even have a normal experience at a bloody bookstore of all places. Because there, submerged in the line filling up the entire first story, was Potter. And he wasn’t alone either as it seemed like Granger, as well as the entire Weasley family, had accompanied him. ‘This is just brilliant,’ Draco thought bitterly. Draco was suddenly overcome with a feeling of exhaustion as the day’s events- particularly his experience at Borgin and Burkes- finally caught up to him. ‘Perhaps I can just blend in with the crowd and avoid Potter and the other menaces.’

With that, Draco fled down the stairs back to the first floor, merging with the crowd as he did so. He supposed he should actually be grateful for the shop having so many occupants today then. Coming to a halt in front of the Lockhart display Draco swept up his required books (nearly every single one written by Lockhart) and turned around to head over to a shopkeeper so he could pay and get out of this dratted place- ‘and get away from Potter.’

As Draco made to do exactly that, he realized with a jolt he was actually closer to Potter now as the line had moved up considerably from moments before. ‘No matter, I can still get out of here unnoticed, surely.’ Yet, Draco should’ve realized it wouldn’t be that easy- things involving “The Boy who Lived” never were. For the first time since stepping into the shop Draco finally realized just what that line was for. Because, in what appeared to be two swift steps, Gilderoy Lockhart himself strode up to Harry Potter and pushed him up to the front of the line, exclaiming that Potter was the lucky recipient of Lockhart’s generosity. And, as much as Draco wanted to look away, he couldn’t.

The scene before him was too ludicrous. Potter looked highly uncomfortable with the whole thing; which did surprise Draco as he figured Potter would’ve loved being in the spotlight like that. ‘Maybe because he has to share?’ Draco speculated. Though, Draco considered, he would probably be most uncomfortable with being that close to Lockhart too. ‘I guess Potter and I have something in common.’ Draco softy laughed at that notion.

His amusement was cut short when a small red headed girl with freckles turned to look at him inquiringly. If that hair was anything to go by...she was a Weasley. And wasn’t that embarrassing, being caught off guard by a Weasley like that. He threw a look of utter contempt back at the girl before realizing Potter had shakily made his way to the crowd. Specifically, right next to that Weaselette.

Emerald green eyes flooded Draco's vision as he met Potter's gaze. He instantly cleared his expression and took in the raven haired boy’s appearance. He looked slightly taller than last year, but aside from that not much had changed. When he looked back up at Potter he realized the other boy had been giving him a curious glance, like he was some puzzle he couldn't figure out. Draco frowned at that, Potter was supposed to look at him with anger, disgust, hatred. Not...whatever this was.

“Famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page,” Draco said, giving Potter his best sneer. Instantly, the previous look was gone from Potter’s features, and was instead replaced with anger.

The Weasley girl looked back at Draco with apprehension before jumping to Potter’s defense, “Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that and you know it.”

Draco blushed, he’d forgotten this girl had witnessed his earlier amusement. Well, he’d just have to show her. “Got yourself a girlfriend Potter?”

That did the trick, the girl instantly turned red and shied away from Draco. Potter, though, he only seemed to get more riled up. Before he could speak, two figures walked up behind him- Granger and Weasley. They looked just as irate as the golden boy himself did, glaring daggers at Draco.

“Bugger off Malfoy,” Weasley growled. Draco smirked, this was going to be too easy. Weasley was always so easily annoyed, it would be nothing for Draco to get under the boy’s skin.

“Surprised to see you here Weasley. I suppose your family will go hungry for a month to pay for all those,” Draco jeered, pointing to the brand new books piled up in the Weasley girl’s cauldron.

Ronald Weasley grew red and started toward Draco before Granger and Potter grabbed the back of his shirt and held him back. Draco stepped back a little in surprise. He thought he heard someone calling out for the red headed boy, but he couldn't be sure because his hand started to get warm, then excruciatingly hot. Had he been jinxed? He looked down at his hand and the ring he wore was starting to lightly shine. And not the way it had when it was in the sunlight either.

Draco stared at the object in surprise before a hand fell on his shoulder, temporarily distracting him from the burning sensation the ring was undoubtedly producing. He looked around and met the cold gray eyes of his father. His heart dropped. Of all times for the ring to be...doing something..it just had to be now.

Looking back around he realized the trio were looking up at Lucius Malfoy in surprise, before looking down at Draco’s hand. ‘Shite, they must have noticed the ring, though, I don’t understand how you couldn’t notice it with it glowing like that.” Draco inwardly cringed. This wasn’t going to end well.

Lucius turned to his son and started to address him before he was cut off by Arthur Weasley. “It’s too crowded in here, let’s go outside,” Arthur said, appearing calm and jovial. That was..before he’d seen Lucius Malfoy. He quickly fell pale and stood up straighter, meeting the other man’s eyes with a look of suspicion.

“Well, well, well- Arthur Weasley,” Lucius smirked.

Arthur looked on coldly. “Lucius,” he nodded. Draco stared at the interaction in disbelief, he had known his father didn’t care for the Weasleys, but he didn’t know the feelings of mutual hatred were this strong.

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids...I hope they’re paying you overtime? " Lucius smirked, eyes flashing in delight. He looked like a predator ready to pounce on his prey, and it was...slightly unnerving to see his father like that.

Arthur’s face tightened for a second, before he opened his mouth to no doubt throw a biting insult back. He never got the chance to do so though, because at that moment two things happened in quick succession.

The first was a blinding flash of pain that erupted throughout Draco’s whole body, causing him to suck in a deep breath and stagger. If it hadn’t been for Draco’s rigorous training in keeping a calm composure at all times- and the presence of Draco’s enemies- he surely would’ve screamed out in agony and fallen to his knees. It felt like the cruciatus curse, only with more of a burning than slicing sensation. Draco had fallen victim to one of his father's stray curses when he was younger, and he hadn’t wished to revisit the feeling again. It couldn’t be helped now, he’d supposed.

The second thing was that in Draco’s moment of excruciation he’d stumbled to hold onto something to keep his balance, and to ground him. That something was a wheeled book cart which was being used to lug even more copies of Lockhart's publications over to the half empty shelf. As he clumsily grabbed hold of it he had accidentally pushed it in front of him with one swift motion. The wheels on the cart expended upon the momentum and gave it enough drive to crash into the pile of books stacked up behind his father. As that happened, the cart moved unsteadily and fell over, toppling books all around his father and the Weasleys (as well as the two complementary Weasleys).

The pain he’d felt vanished quickly, leaving him feeling numb and tired. But, as he took in the scene before him, his weakness was quickly replaced with horror. His father had had the luck of moving away just before the rest of the books from the cart came crashing down- the Weasleys weren’t so lucky. They were surrounded by books, many of which had dropped to their knees and put their hands above their heads to shield themselves from the impact. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley (who had come scurrying over as soon as things went awry) had instead taken out their wands and were levitating some books away from themselves and the others.

His father looked shocked for only a moment, before he composed himself and instead stared at his son lividly. Draco winced, knowing it was perfectly visible (he didn’t try hiding it- didn’t have the strength). This was surely a moment to look scared anyways; he’d just broken many family rules and had acted severely unbecoming of a pureblood heir. The others were still composing themselves, but it seemed they still had time to witness his father marching over to him in a fury. As his father grabbed him by the front of his shirt another figure entered the store and took in the scene- the half-giant hybrid himself, Hagrid. He looked on in worry, and started helping the scrambled Weasleys gather their things.

Lucius hissed in absolute agitation, and dragged his son to the front of the store without sparing a glance back at the Weasley family. He simply reached in his pocket, pulled out a bag of galleons, and deposited them in the shopkeepers hands at the front of the store before marching out of the store in swift strides. Once they got outside he gripped Draco’s shoulder so hard Draco was sure it would bruise, then he pulled his son into him firmly and apparated away. What Lucius would soon remember though, was that he had entirely forgotten to “gift” the small black book hidden under his robes to the Weasley girl in his haste to leave that foul scene behind him.


	2. Lucius’ task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to apologize to his father Draco accepts the task Lucius presents to him. He just doesn’t understand why a Weasley would need to be involved.

“What in Merlin’s name were you thinking,” Lucius Malfoy hissed. His grip was still ironclad on Draco’s shoulder. 

Draco stuttered, his face still a furious red from the embarrassment and shame he felt. He was trying to get his mouth to move, so he could say something- anything- to justify his actions or calm his father. But his throat was closed, and he couldn’t bring himself to calm down enough to focus on a sentence. He hadn’t seen his father this angry in years, and the anger certainly wasn’t aimed at him last time. 

Lucius spun his son around and shoved him forwards so he was no longer at his side. Draco fumbled before gathering himself in a hunched up position, his face aimed at the ground.

“Look at me,” Lucius snarled as he forced his son’s head upwards, so that his icy gaze was looking into Draco’s widened eyes. “Pathetic.”

Draco was sure there was nothing but fear on his face as he looked at his father. How could he explain what had happened; had his father even seen the ring? If not, perhaps Draco could throw the damned thing away as quickly (and discreetly) as possible- it had gotten him into this mess after all. Besides, if his father didn’t know about the ring, and he brought it up now, that would only fuel his ire. 

Lucius calmed himself slightly, he wasn’t acting as he should for this situation. It was unbecoming to let his temper get as out of hand as it had. As he met his son’s gaze he hardened his features and stood taller, letting his robes billow about him with the force of his movements. His magic cracked around both him and his son, as it usually did when he was particularly incensed but didn’t want to portray it with his features. “Do you know what you’ve done?” 

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Lucius cut him off. “You have acted most unbecoming of a pureblood heir. Not to mention, you openly defied and embarrassed me in public- and in front of blood traitors, no less.”

“I let it slide in Borgin and Burkes, when you interrupted me and started talking foolishly. But then, not only do you cause a scene in the middle of a bookstore, but you embarrass the family name by attacking me in public.” 

Lucius was eerily calm throughout his tirade, but his magic was sharp and forceful- indicating how furious he was behind his mask. “But, father, I didn’t attack you I-” Draco started. 

“You claim pushing a book cart towards me is not a show of defiance and a clear attack?” Lucius snarled. “Or are you merely idiotic enough to belive that assualt is only assault if it is done by magical means?” 

Draco spluttered, he wouldn’t dare to defy his father- especially not in public. And he’d have no reason to defy him, surely. His father had always wanted the best for him, and had raised him to live up to the family name. He knew his place in society, and he knew what was expected of him because of it. 

Taking a deep breath, Draco gulped as he fixed his posture and met his father’s eyes. He summoned every ounce of remorse and regret he could and let it openly shine in his eyes; it was time to apologize to his father, and take accountability for causing that scene in Flourish and Blotts. “I apologize for my unbecoming behavior today father. I should have controlled myself better, as you have instructed me to do countless times. I let my emotions get the better of me, and I shall work on ceasing this unruly habit at once.”

Lucius nodded swiftly at his son and narrowed his eyes a fraction before striding towards the manors gate. “Do control that habit, it will only cause you more trouble in the future. And Draco?” Lucius stopped and turned his head around to look at his son. “Remember your title, and remember what that means.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Draco returned to his room after the altercation with his father, and though his mother had tried to catch his attention, he’d paid her no mind. He would only start to cry if he’d stopped to talk with her. He only ever felt this guilty when he knew he’d disappointed his parents. Perhaps that was slightly concerning; that he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilt when other people outside his family were involved. ‘But that’s just how it is, and it comes with being a pureblood- and a Slytherin.’ 

As he closed his bedroom door behind him he took a second to compose himself. He had to get himself together, and the first task in doing so was to discard of the cursed ring. Looking down at his hand he saw the shining stone twinkle up at him innocently, and he snarled at that. This thing was probably a fraud, no wizard or witch in history had been able to travel into the future, or create an artifact that could do so. Nor had any invention for glimpses into the future been made, so this ring theoretically shouldn’t exist- and it didn’t. It was a joke; similar to something you would buy at Zonkos. 

There was a reason Draco wasn’t planning on taking divination in his third year; that branch of magic was so obscure half of the “seers” and “prophets” were fake. Very few were actually real. And Draco had been stupid to think an artifact like this coud exist and yet, not be mentioned anywhere. ‘So much for figuring out what my destiny is,’ Draco scoffed. 

Draco promptly removed the ring from his finger and was mildly surprised to see that the ring hadn’t left a mark behind. With how badly it was burning earlier, Draco was sure the spot would at least be red. ‘Though, my magic could’ve already healed my hand if damage had been done,’ Draco mused. Summoning his magic forth, Draco called for his primary house elf, “Dobby.” 

Dobby appeared in an instant, looking up at Draco with his wide eyes. He looked expectant, and ready to serve Draco in any way he commanded. “Yes, Master Draco? How may Dobby serve you?” 

“Dispose of this Dobby. And don’t tell my father about this interaction unless he specifically asks,” Draco said as he dropped the ring into Dobby’s open hands. He was vaguely glad that jewelry didn’t count as clothing, or else he would have had to get rid of the ring himself. Magic was finicky like that sometimes; hence why he had to command Dobby to only bring up the situation to his father if his father asked about this particular scene specifically. He knew that Lucius was the head of the Malfoy household, and as such all the elves would listen to his father's commands over his. To combat that, one had to find loopholes. 

“Yes, Master Draco,” Dobby said as he nodded his head in affirmation. The one good thing about Dobby was that he was really good at identifying the loopholes in Draco’s speech. 

Once Dobby apparated away Draco let out a long breath. His first task was done. Dobby would get rid of the ring and nobody would ever know what he’d done. Sure, Borgin may suspect, but he’d hardly bring it up to Lucius in fear of losing a client, or the money he’d gotten from Draco. And it wasn’t like the Weasleys, Granger, or Potter were going to confront him about what had happened. So, everything was fine.

Now, Draco would sit down and collect his thoughts, rebuild his mental shields, and suppress his anger, guilt, and worry. After that his mind would be clear and he could start to re-read the old books on pureblood customs to remind himself of what he had to act like- his father would expect this to be done.

__________________________________________________________________________

Draco sat on the settee in the library, a stack of books on ancient pureblood rituals, sayings, customs, and history beside him. He flipped through a book involving reconciliation rituals, hoping to find one that would work for his situation. He knew he’d impress his father greatly if he performed the correct one for him- it would be more meaningful than any simple “I’m sorry.” 

Draco stopped his frantic scanning of the books pages as he heard a slight clicking noise from behind him. He sighed under his breath and averted his eyes from the book. “You know you’d be far more quiet if you casted a muffliato on your heels mother,” Draco said.

“I suppose so, but I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you dear. Do you underestimate my intellect that much?” Narcissa smiled, voice quiet and warm. 

She stepped closer to Draco, her heels making the soft clicking sounds on the wooden floor, and sat down next to her son. When Draco looked at her he saw the picture of pureblood elegance- as he always did. She had her silvery blond hair draped down her back, and her dress robes were a deep blue; they were striking against her pale complexion. 

Her rosy lips curved into a small smile as her eyes met her sons. “No, I would never underestimate your intelligence mother. I got mine from someone didn’t I?” Draco said, a small smile of his own forming. 

Narcissa laughed lightly, “Yes, you did. Your father relies on intuition and cunning, which you’ve gotten from him. But intelligence and wit? I don’t see where else you could’ve gotten those traits from.” 

Draco smiled. That smile dissipated when he realized what he’d have to talk to his mom about. He forced himself to continue looking at her, and he started to speak. 

“Mother, I apologize for shaming the family name. I’m sure father told you about what I’d done, and I-“ He was stopped when a comforting hand was placed on his shoulder. It was quite unlike the way his father's hand had gripped him earlier, but the area was indeed slightly bruised, and he winced nonetheless. 

Narcissa narrowed her eyes at that, but before he could ponder it further she spoke. “Lucius is a fool. You have not shamed the family name, you only embarrassed your father. Unfortunately, he gets rather offended when he’s embarrassed- and acts like a child.” She added that last part on absentmindedly, but her tone was sharp nonetheless.

“But mother, I defied father, and I acted unlike a pureblood,” Draco tried to reason with her. She was very smart, but she often gave him the benefit of the doubt too much. 

She shook her head. “You acted like a 12 year old child- which you are. And anyways, your father seemed awfully hypocritical; telling you not to badmouth Harry Potter so you don’t make a statement to the light wizards, and then insulting the family he thinks of as his own. He did exactly what he told you not to do, just more indirectly.” Narcissa reasoned. She pursed her lips together and continued, “And anyways, you certainly did not shame the family. If you’ve read up on our family history- which I know you have- then you should be able to see that what you did today does not at all compare to what those who have shamed the family have done.” 

Draco sighed, and he turned away from his mother. It was so easy to believe her. She was logical- her reasons were valid. And yes, he’d certainly done nothing like Sirius Black, or even Andromeda Black, had done. He hadn’t painfully shamed the family, but he’d still shamed it. Narcissa just couldn’t admit his faults, but Lucius could. And if his father had said he’d shamed the family- then he had.

“Mother, I- thank you. Thank you for reassuring me, it’s appreciated,” Draco said with a nod. He had been about to counteract his mother's statements, but she just wouldn’t get it. She would always be biased. Because she was his mother. 

As he turned back to his mother he put on a false smile, letting his shoulders relax and seeming relieved. Narcissa’s brows scrunched together in concern before she pursed her lips together and exhaled. “Right, well. Now that that’s settled have Dobby put these dusty books away. Surely you have some schoolwork to complete?” Narcissa said, a false cheerfulness in her voice. 

Draco could tell she wasn't fully placated, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let her change his mind. As Draco gave a short nod in response, Narcissa smiled and made her way out of the library. Once she was gone, Draco turned back to his book. He still had a ritual to find.

__________________________________________________________________________________

It had been some time after the whole “incident” that Lucius had finally approached him one on one. It was two days before he would go back to Hogwarts, and he was still trying to find a ritual to appease Lucius. Unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to find one that matched a situation similar to his. ‘But there has to be one, I just haven’t found the right book yet.’ 

He sighed and turned his attention to the dimming lantern near his bedside table, sticking his hand out towards it and focusing his magic towards his fingertips. He concentrated and murmured “Incendio” under his breath, letting the magic flare out his fingertips and relight the candle in the lantern. 

The flickering flame on the candle surged with a renewed light and lit up the surrounding area of the room. Draco knew a new candle would be needed soon, but for now this would temporarily make the room lighter. 

A slight clapping made Draco startle out of his concentration. He’d been about to continue reading, but the noise had made him forget about his book entirely. When he looked up his father was standing in his doorway, an amused smile on his face as he applauded his son. 

“Your wandless magic has improved,” Lucius stated. Draco perked up; coming from his father that was practically a compliment. 

“Thank you father.” Draco said, and he attempted to get his excitement under control. It wouldn’t do to show his father he had yet to control his emotions properly. Even excitement would make him look unbecoming. 

Lucius hummed, and he stepped ever closer to Draco's bed. “I understand you’ve been trying to apologize using a pureblood custom?” 

“Yes. But I, ah, I’m still working on it.” Draco looked down in embarrassment; he should’ve found something already. He gripped the book tighter and calmed himself. He couldn’t show his shame- his weakness- to his father. 

“Understandable, you won't find anything in any book. Certain customs are passed down orally from generation to generation. It’s considered too basic to have to explain it in any book.” Lucius waved his hand flippantly in an unconcerned manner, brushing the matter aside. “Seeing as your mother and I have yet to teach you this custom, it would make sense that you did not know it.”

“Really? What do I have to do then?” Draco leaned forward expectantly, dropping his book off to the side. 

Lucius smirked. “To apologize for embarrassing another wizard, especially a family member, and for defying them...one must owe the wronged a favor. Anything the wronged wizard desires.” 

He was wary, Draco always was after seeing his father smirk like that. But he had to apologize, and if this was a way to do so…

“What do you ask of me father?” 

Draco's father nodded in acceptance. “I ask you to complete your first task in becoming a Deatheater.” At Dracos shock he paused. His son knew he had been a Deatheater, that he was one, but he believed the Dark Lord to be dead. Harry Potter's existence had been enough proof for him. 

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking my son. But the Dark lord is not dead. He lives. Even now I can feel his power starting to return. And when he returns, our family will support him. You will serve him. Is that clear?”

Draco nodded warily. He trusted his father, and if he said the Dark Lord would return...then he would. The thought of becoming a Deatheater sounded terrifying, and Draco didn’t think he could kill anyone. Not even a Mudblood- not when he might know them. And if he had to fight against Potter, well, he wanted to win. But did he want him dead? 

Still, he had to apologize to his father. He owed him. And maybe, maybe he’ll be wrong. Just this once. 

“Tell me what I must do.” 

“It’s simple. In order to help revive our lord I need you to give this-“ Lucius reached into his robes and pulled out a small back diary- “to Ginevra Weasley.” 

Draco's face scrunched up. Why would a Weasley be needed to revive the Dark Lord? “Father...why her?” 

Lucius smiled softly- but the way in which he did so made the smile look more disconcerting than his smirk ever had. Draco suppressed a shiver. “Draco, I can't tell you much about this task. You’ll know more once it's completed. But this diary is extremely important, and it was entrusted to me by the Dark Lord himself.” 

Draco's eyes widened only slightly. The Dark Lord really did trust and value his father then. So, if he trusted Draco to that same degree...perhaps he wouldn’t need to take the mark to be a Deatheater. The Dark Lord would trust him so much that he wouldn’t need to take the mark. Maybe he’d even be so close to the Lord that he wouldn’t have to kill unless it was to protect him from a direct attack. 

Yes, this could work. Draco gulped, “Then all I need to do is give this diary to the Weasley then? Couldn’t I simply give it to Potter himself? That’s who the Dark Lord wants.” 

“I like that you’d think that Draco, but no. It must be someone who has a connection to Potter- more than acquaintances but the specifics of the relationship don’t matter. It has to be someone who won’t turn the diary in to a staff member either. Potter's time with the diary will come, but not yet.”

Realization hit Draco. If what his father had said was true, then Ginevra Weasley would be the prime candidate. “Ok. I’ll do it,” Draco said the words with an air of finality. This was a simple task, and he could do it easily and with no remorse. 

The head of the Malfoy family felt a surge of pride. His son was a good choice for this; what with how he’d accepted the task so readily. He’d be a great servant to the Dark Lord when he came back. “Good. I’ll leave this with you then.”

Lucius placed the black diary down gently on the edge of Draco's bed. He then strode out of the room, but paused before he turned to close the door. “Draco. Narcissa does not need to know about this. She’d only fuss, and you’re old enough to accept tasks of your own free will, aren’t you?” 

“Yes father.” 

When his bedroom door closed Draco stared at the diary intently. He reached over to it and tentatively picked it up. It felt...encased in magic. Dark magic that wanted to get out. Draco felt slightly nauseous as he felt the magic squirm under his hands. The thing felt alive. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The task itself was simple. Draco knew this. ‘Come on, all I have to do is sneak this bloody diary into the girls bag on the Hogwarts Express. I can have Vincent and Gregory distract the rest of Potter's little gang while I slip it into her trunk, or bag, or something.’

And yet, the whole task itself wasn’t upsetting Draco. It was the diary itself. After he’d quickly shoved the book into his bedside table’s drawer, he’d immediately felt a surge of sharp relief. His nausea lessened considerably, and he felt at ease once more. 

He’d figured the sheer power in the thing had left him overwhelmed. His magic was still developing, and this thing contained twice his amount of magic. It made sense it would react with him in that way. 

The feeling of unease returned later that night. He was abruptly woken from a nightmare; though he didn’t know what he’d had a nightmare about, he just knew that he’d had one. He was shaky and his chest felt constricted- which wasnt what worried him. He always had those symptoms after he’d had a nightmare. 

What worried him was the piercing headache. His head throbbed, and it felt like the time he’d had a migraine. Of course, that time his mother had simply cooed at him as she slipped a potion down Dracos throat, and sure enough his migraine was gone soon after. Now, he didn’t have a potion near him- and he didn’t feel like he could do anything, much less summon his mother or even Dobby. 

He grit his teeth and placed his head down between his knees. It felt like his head would explode, and he couldn’t do anything but let it happen. But just as his head abruptly stopped throbbing, and the pain ceased, Draco felt a surge of unease. 

He heard a faint whispering, but in his reduced state he couldn’t make out the words. It sounded eerie, and wrong. He felt the magic from earlier tug at him, and then a presence seemingly looked him over for a fraction of a second. As this happened Draco pathetically tried to raise his Occlumency shields higher. 

Turns out it was an unnecessary precaution. The presence left as soon as it came, and Draco was sure he’d just imagined it. The uneasy feeling and magic left too. Draco was exhausted, and though he wanted to investigate this strange occurrence, he was exhausted. 

He felt drained. The pain he once felt gave way to a numbness. And the numbing feeling made him relaxed. He lay back down and closed his eyes- feeling sleep wash over him. 

When he woke he hadn’t felt rested. He felt just as tired as he was the night before. And his body shook with faint tremors, indicating a nightmare filled slumber. He body also felt slick with sweat, and he grimaced. He hated feeling so grimy. 

He cleared his head and willed his body to stop shaking. Once it did he went to the bathroom and showered. Afterwards, when he finally felt marginally better, he summoned Dobby and ordered him to bring him some muscle relaxing and headache easing potions. The headache potion was just to help ease the dull throbbing he felt in his head after the night's events. It wouldn’t do to let that turn into a full on headache. 

Once the potions were consumed he made his way down to the library. He had some time before breakfast, and he intended to spend that time in the quiet, dim library. It always eased him, what with its peaceful tranquility and the soft thrum of ancient magic embedded in the room. The Manor itself was ancient, but the library was the oldest room in the house. 

Draco sat on the settee, and he closed his eyes. It was nice to be so unguarded for once. He couldn’t do this often- as his mother was often awake early, and she too came to the library in those early morning hours. He couldn’t be unguarded around his parents; they’d only lecture him. 

But his mother was clearly sleeping in this morning, as she wasn't in the library. And Draco had the opportunity to relax. ‘Good, I need it after that horrid night.’ 

Draco did suppose he’d miss the library when he got back to Hogwarts. The Hogwarts library was almost always occupied, and all the interesting books were hidden away in the restricted section. Well, the astronomy tower is usually empty, and it has a nice enough view. I should be able to get some peace there. 

Draco relaxed a bit more, then he reluctantly got up and began to work on his plan to transfer the diary to Ginevra Weasley. 

____________________________________________________________________

It was time to go to Hogwarts. It was time to get rid of the diary, and then he could spend the rest of the year enjoying his spot on the Quidditch team, and work on beating Hermione Granger in their academics. It wouldn’t be too difficult surely, he had always been better in the practical portion of their academics anyways. Now he just had to concentrate a bit more on the theoretical work. 

Still, even with those thoughts to comfort him, Draco felt that same uneasy feeling the diary drew out of him. It was packed in with his Hogwarts robes at the top of his trunk- hidden, but easily accessed. 

His plan was perfect. He would go find a compartment with Vincent, Gregory, Pansy, and Blaise. Then he would chat with them for a bit before leaving to go change into his Hogwarts robes. Afterwards, he would drag Vincent and Gregory to Potter’s compartment- where the Weaslette would surely be- and have them pick a fight with Potter and Weasley. Granger would attempt to stop anyone from breaking any rules, and the Weasley girl would be watching the altercation closely to ensure her brother and friends wouldn’t be hurt. He would take that time to pull the diary out from his robes and spell it into the first year’s trunk. 

Draco knew this plan would work. It was simple, but it didn’t need to be complicated for it to work. He’d tried casting the spell on the diary in advance, and it worked- though it did make him feel awful afterwards. So there wasn’t a problem with that part of his plan. Not to mention he could easily cast the spell needed- even wordless, but not wandless.

That wasn’t a problem. It would seem natural that he had his wand out to defend himself should Potter and Weasley direct their ire at him. And since he could cast the spell non-verbally, well, that just meant no one would suspect anything. 

However, he did still have a problem within his plan. He didn’t know which trunk was Ginevra Weasley’s. And his father made it especially clear that it had to be Ginevra who got the diary; meaning he couldn’t mess this part up. He would just have to try and identify the trunk quickly, and hope that he could glimpse the Weasleys before they got onto the train’s platform. That way, he could identify who’s luggage belonged to who beforehand. 

Draco breathed in and gripped his trunk’s handle, willing the feeling of unease to dampen. Once it did, he made his way down the stairs to the front entrance of the Manor, where his parents were waiting for him. 

“You’ve got everything then, Draco dear?” Narcissa asked as he stopped in front of her. She wasn’t particularly happy to be sending her son off to school so soon, but she knew he’d been excited to go back- and she was happy for him. He looked slightly unsettled right now, and that made her want to frown, but she suppressed it. He was most likely irritated with her fussing. 

Draco nodded. “Yes mother, I’m ready to go.” He gave his mother a faltering smile, but then turned away and looked at his father expectantly. 

“Right, then let’s not dither here any longer,” Lucius smiled. He took his wife’s arm in his and then placed a hand on his son's shoulder, drawing him into his side. When they were ready, he focused his magic in, and then imagined the apparating space on Platform 9 ¾. His magic flowed out and around his family, then swept them all to the space he’d imagined. 

As soon as they got to the Platform, Draco wriggled out of his father's grip. He took in the busy place with a smile- one that Narcissa enjoyed seeing on her son's face, because it was genuine. 

The platform was bursting with families, muggle and wizard alike. There was a sensation of active magic in the atmosphere, and the place felt alive. But not in the creepy way that the diary did. This felt fresh, and good. It didn’t weigh him down, but rather lifted him up. 

And, of course, in the near distance, there was the gleaming red of the Hogwarts Express. It was blowing billowy puffs of gray smoke out, and you could see children and teenagers gathering onto the train in small groups. First years were heaving their trunks up to the train, while seventh years were taking in the scene with clear amusement before finally helping the 11 year olds. 

Narcissa pushed her son softly, gaining his attention as she smiled serenely at him. Draco smiled back, and then the family made their way to the train. It would soon be time to depart, and the more time Draco had to scan the crowd for the Weasleys from the security of a quiet compartment, the better. He hopped onto the train, walked briskly down it to a compartment near the end, and placed his trunk in the compartment. 

Afterwards, he rushed out of the train and back to his parents. They stood there watching him softy. Draco hugged his mother as she placed a soft kiss on his head. He may be 12, but he still loved his family more than anything, and he could accept small gestures of affection- even in public. When his mother let him go, his father stepped up and pulled him in for a small side hug. His father wasn’t particularly affectionate, but his son was the exception. 

“Have a fun time at school darling,” Narcissa said. Draco nodded in thanks. 

“Narcissa, could I have a moment alone with Draco please?” Lucius asked, giving his wife’s hand a squeeze to placate her. She drew her brows together in irritation, but nodded and gave Draco a final hug before making her way back to the apparation zone. 

Draco looked at his father with curiosity. “What do you need, father?”

“Draco. I need to remind you to complete the task quickly. Do you have a plan yet?” Lucius said this with firm eyes, and a rigid posture. 

The words made Draco nod quickly. He knew this task was important, and he didn't aim to disappoint. “Yes father. I've got it all planned out.” 

“Good.” Lucius seemed to relax at that, but only slightly. He then hesitated, but said, “Have a good time at school then.” 

As he watched his father walk over to his mother, he nodded determinedly and made his way back to the compartment. As he sat down in the seat closest to the window he scanned the crowd rapidly. No sign of the Weasleys. ‘Though, they are usually late,’ He thought. 

It took a while for the Weasleys to arrive, and by the time they did Draco was already joined by Blaise, Pansy, and Vincent. But, just as he heard Gregory enter the compartment, he saw a flash of red in the lessening crowd. One by one, he saw a group of redheads rush through the barrier. And at the head of the frantic group he saw his target. 

Ginevra Weasley was scrambling along with her mother. When they made it to the train she handed a dull, navy blue trunk to her brother- the oldest one, Draco believed. ‘Well then, now that that’s settled. I just have to wait.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos, I really appreciate it! I love that you guys are enjoying the story so far, and I can’t wait to continue writing it. The format is being sorta tricky, so I’m working on figuring that out still, but hopefully that’ll be settled soon lol. As always, if you have any suggestions or constructive criticism, please tell me in the comments!


	3. Square one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco’s plan was flawless. What he didn’t expect was for Givervra Weasley to be so open minded- especially towards Slytherins. Because of that, he’s back to square one with only one decision left.

The soft thrum of the train’s vibrations rang out across the compartment, and Draco absentmindedly tuned back in to Pansy’s gossiping. He had been anxiously awaiting the opportune moment to strike for some time now, but after realizing just how long the train ride seemed to be, Draco had just grown bored. 

He couldn’t wait too long, or else he might miss the opportunity altogether- and Merlin knows he doesn’t want to keep that diary for any longer than necessary. But if he had neglected patience for this plan he would’ve come off as suspicious. Even Ginevra Weasley would’ve caught on to him.

“Draco, what do you think Zarcharias Smith would say about joining us at the Slytherin table?” Pansy asked, abruptly startling Draco out of his thoughts. 

Draco cringed. “That Hufflepuff boy? Why do you care about him?” 

Pansy looked at the others- who simply looked amused- and then turned back to Draco. With a small huff, and a roll of her eyes, she said, “Because he’s hilarious. He’s much too cynical for a Hufflepuff, and everybody knows he can’t stand the Gryffindors. Well, most of them anyways.” 

“Must not be that hilarious if I haven’t even heard of him,” Draco sneered. 

Pansy was about to retort when Blaise cut in, “Well...seeing as you obsessed over Potter all year long last year, it makes sense you wouldn’t notice Smith.” Draco flushed with embarrassment. Pansy just smirked and promptly thanked Blaise for his intervention. 

“Whatever. I’m going to get changed.” Draco stood up and swiftly collected his belongings, making sure to have an extra grip on his robes- and, more importantly, the diary. He wouldn’t put it past him for one of the other Slytherins to trip him on his way to the changing compartments. 

Before he left, Draco “suggested” that Crabbe and Goyle get changed too. He only hoped the two idiots would get the message. 

Draco stormed down the train and to the changing compartments before briskly opening one and sliding in. After locking the door, Draco unwrapped his neatly folded robes. He hesitated before gently picking up the diary and putting it off to the side. That book had given him enough trouble already, and he’d be glad to get rid of it. 

Changing quickly, Draco stopped to view himself in the mirror. He straightened out his robes, and he scowled when he saw slight bags under his eyes. ‘The problem with having such fair skin,’ Draco thought, ‘is that everyone seems to know when you’ve had a troubling or restless night- or multiple nights.’ 

Huffing in irritation Draco took out his wand and cast a glamour over his face; it wouldn’t last long, but it would cover the bags under his eyes. As he tucked his wand into one of his robe’s pockets, he felt a momentary second of...hesitation? He supposed he shouldn’t feel right in giving the book off to someone else in the first place- especially after he knew what the thing had done to him first hand. But that wasn’t what made him feel hesitant. Weasley deserved to suffer after taking away Draco’s chance at friendship with Potter. And the best way to hurt him would be to hurt his family.

But Draco wished he could do more to aid his father and the...Dark Lord. He didn’t want to give such an artifact to someone who could easily throw it away without a second thought. But Draco knew this was absurd- for multiple reasons! 

Reason 1, he didn’t want this diary any longer. It was too much trouble. Reason 2, his father gave him specific instructions, and Draco wasn’t about to disappoint. 

Sighing, he tucked the diary into his pocket and made his way out of the compartment. Outside, he was greeted by the presence of his two “friends.” Luckily, they had gotten the message- and didn’t take long changing. Draco didn’t like to wait. 

“Crabbe, Goyle, let’s go.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________

He found the Weaslette’s compartment easily. And things were going perfectly fine until he stepped into the compartment; Potters name on his tongue. What stripped him of his words was the compartment’s inhabitants. Or, rather, the lack of inhabitants. 

There, sitting side by side, were Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley. Nobody else was there. No Potter. No Ronald Weasley. He hadn’t predicted this. 

Granger looked up at him, the worry in her eyes replaced with irritation. “Malfoy. How can we help you?” Granger asked, false politeness in her voice. 

“Granger,” he sneered. “Have Potter and Weasley finally realized how annoying your presence is? Finally abandoned you?” 

Granger startled. But then she relaxed as she proudly lifted her chin up and glared at the trio of Slytherins. “How’s your hand Malfoy?”

This time, Draco startled. A flush of panic overwhelmed him. She had...noticed? It was confirmed then- Draco still had to deal with the aftermath of the whole ring fiasco. 

Before he could say anything, the Weaslette chimed in, “I don’t think you're all that tough Malfoy. You certainly didn’t seem it when your father dragged you out of Flourish and Blotts.” She smirked, and for a second Draco wondered if there would be a Weasley in Slytherin. He quickly dismissed the idea when he thought of the girl's older brothers. If that prefect, and the twins weren’t Slytherins, then there was no way she’d be one.

Draco scowled and then stepped closer to the two girls. They both stood up in turn. “My hand is fine, just a...stinging hex. As for my father...one should always respect their parents. Though, I’d understand why you both wouldn’t get that, seeing as your parents aren’t deserving of respect in the first place.”

Granger and Weasley looked affronted. And Draco almost thought Granger would toss an actual stinging hex at him. But before he could find out if she would, he heard a scuffling behind him. 

Unbeknownst to Draco, the compartment door had been opened, and none other than Fred and George Weasley had stepped into the compartment. The twins were fighting with Crabbe and Goyle to get to Draco. But Draco’s lackeys weren’t about to give up that easily. 

Granger was on her feet in a minute, and trying to settle the chaos as Draco thought she would. ‘Well, this isn’t what I had in mind...but it’ll do.’ 

Draco knew he wouldn’t have much time, the twins were trying to get to him after all. Ginerva Weasley had taken to yelling at Crabbe and Goyle, and so Draco chose that moment to pull the diary from his robes, and quickly draw his wand. He cast the spell, concentrating on Ginevra’s trunk and the diary simultaneously. 

As expected, he felt a slight pull in his magic- like a resistance. It was the diary’s doing, he knew that. But, even though he did manage to get past that barrier, he still felt sick to his stomach after the ordeal was over. 

Turns out, Draco didn’t finish a moment too late. One of the twins had finally decided to just hex Crabbe, and he shoved past Granger. He grabbed Draco’s robes from behind and shoved Draco to his front so Draco could clearly see the fury in the Weasley’s eyes.

Getting a grip on Draco’s robe front the twin shoved him into the window and snarled out, “You wanna repeat that Malfoy?” 

He gulped. He didn’t want to back down. But, logicly, Draco knew he wouldn’t be able to beat the twin physically, nor could he defeat him magically. This was a fourth year, and Draco was only a second year. His magic was strong, but it wasn’t as strong as a fourth year’s would be. 

Still, Draco had a mischievous thing called pride. And, though he wouldn’t do anything brash, he wasn’t going to fully submit either. “I only stated the truth,” Draco spit out. 

The twin stilled before he punched Draco in the face. Draco felt pain overtake his right cheek, and he heard Granger call out the Weasley’s name in indignation. “Fred! Stop! Snape’ll have your head!” 

Fred seemed to come back to his senses then. He gave Draco one last furious glare before he let go of him. He took a step back and raised his wand towards Draco. ‘He’d really be stupid enough to hex me? After what Granger said?’ 

Turns out, he wasn’t that stupid. Fred Weasley snarled before casting a non-verbal spell at the Malfoy heir. Draco felt a numbness in his right cheek and then, a second later, he felt nothing. The twin had healed him. 

“There. Now we’re even. You don’t tell Snape about that punch, and I won’t tell Mcgonagall about the harassment. Got it?” Fred grumbled. 

Draco caught his breath and gave an icy glare to the Weasley before him. He didn’t like the arrangement, but he supposed he hadn’t lost, and he had accomplished what he’d come here to do anyways. “Fine, it’s a deal,” Draco said begrudgingly. 

Fred nodded and stepped to the side of the compartment. Granger seemed relieved at the concession. Crabbe and Goyle had stopped to look at Draco, waiting for his next command. “Let’s go,” Draco said, signaling that the two goons should lead the way. 

He sidestepped the other twin, and the weasley girl, and made his way out of the compartment. Turning back once, he realized that Granger was actually watching him. She had her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Before he could contemplate it Draco turned back around and made his way to his compartment. 

‘It’s done. I did it,’ Draco thought. His shoulders slumped down in relaxation. He didn’t feel that heavy pressure of the diary, or his father’s command, anymore. He had succeeded. And now, he just had a welcoming feast to attend, and to enjoy. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco was mid way through his steak and kidney pie when the whispers started. He didn’t pay them much attention- he never really did- but Pansy was the opposite. Pansy was a gossiper, and she had no trouble admitting it. In fact, she was happy to give up any information she had on anyone...so long as people paid the right price. 

But Pansy was also a Slytherin. She protected other Slytherins, and she didn’t stab other Slytherin’s in the back. She also let information slip to certain Slytherins free of charge. Draco was one of those Slytherins, much to his delight. 

So, when Pansy elbowed him in the ribs, Draco only sent a mild glare at her. “What do you want Pansy?” 

At his friend’s smirk Draco set his fork down and looked at her inquisitively. “I assume this has to do with the whispers?” 

“You’d be correct,” Pansy said with a small smile. 

Draco’s eyebrows rose.”Well, don’t keep me waiting then,” he said with a mischievous grin. 

Pansy looked around at the others, ensuring all eyes were on her. “I just heard those Ravenclaws who passed us talking about Potter. Apparently he wasn’t on the Hogwarts Express today.” 

Draco couldn’t suppress his interest. He’d wondered where Potter had been earlier, but he’d just figured he had been in a changing compartment or something. “The point, Pansy dear,” Blaise broke in. 

“Patience Blaize. Silence peaks others' interest you know.” With a glare from both Blaise and Daphne Greengrass, Pansy gave an exasperated sigh and continued. “Anyways, apparently Potter and Weasley couldn’t get past Platform 9 ¾’s barrier . So, they drove one of Arthur Weasley’s enchanted muggle cars to Hogwarts instead.”

The Slytherin’s nearest Pansy gasped and started passing the information on to others. Daphne chose that moment to speak up, “Now, Pansy, I love you, but really? That’s got to be some silly rumor. I mean, who would be idiotic enough to actually fly a car to Hogwarts if you really couldn’t get past the barrier? I mean, it’s common sense that you’d just owl a staff member!” 

Draco groaned. As did Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. Daphne hesitated, but then she let out a small “Merlin…” and hid her face in her book. 

It wasn’t that she made an incorrect statement, in fact, it was a logical one. The thing was, she clearly didn’t remember this was Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley she was talking about. 

“Alright.I retract that statement,” Greengrass said. Pansy only gave her a sympathetic smile. 

“Wait, hold on. So, Potter and Weasley couldn’t get past the platform’s barrier? What does that mean?” Theodore questioned. 

Draco pondered on this. It was strange that they couldn’t cross the barrier. And it couldn’t be a prank either, seeing as the barrier’s magic was much stronger than any Hogwarts student’s magic would’ve been. Even a 7th year wouldn’t be able to tamper with it, surely. 

Pansy seemed to think on the subject before waving it away. “Never mind that Theo. What matters is that Potter and Weasley are definitely going to be expelled!” 

“He’s the golden boy of Gryffindor, and the headmaster adores him. I doubt he’ll be expelled Pansy,” Blaise mumbled, stating the obvious. Everyone nodded in agreement. Draco knew it was the truth- that Potter should be expelled, but his title would, once again, make him “untouchable.” 

“But here’s the thing; who’s not at the staff table right now? And who would gladly fight Dumbledore on the matter in front of the school board?” Pansy asked, eyes alight with excitement. She almost scared Draco when she got like this...almost, but not definitely. 

In unison everyone turned to look at the staff table, and Draco was pleased to find Snape missing. He figured it would have to be his godfather- as he was the only one to openly show his hatred towards Potter. Not to mention Snape didn’t bow down to Albus Dumbledore. And for that, the Malfoy family respected him even more. 

“Still might not get expelled but..Potter’s certainly going to regret flying that car to Hogwarts,” Daphne cringed. She wasn’t a fan of Potter, but she did know how harsh Snape could be; and it wasn’t a secret that he hated Harry Potter with a fierce passion. 

Everyone nodded at that. And even though some sympathized for Potter- experiencing Severus Snape’s anger first hand- most of the second year Slytherin’s wore a smirk for the rest of the feast.

________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Draco waited at the entrance of the great hall with Daphne and Theodore. The feast had ended, and Daphne was scanning the sea of students for her younger sister- Astoria. Astoria had gotten separated from her sister as soon as Dumbledore released everyone from the great hall. And Daphne wasn’t about to leave her first year Slytherin sister behind. 

Draco didn’t blame her. Every Slytherin got picked on and harassed, but it was always worse for the younger years. Honestly, Draco was surprised no older students hadn’t attacked them yet. ‘A group of Slytherin second years “skulking” about the Great hall’s entrance- the perfect targets.’ 

Draco scowled slightly at that thought. The other houses were just as “evil” as Slytherin. Suddenly, Daphne yelped and spun around. “Astoria is down that corridor!” Daphne exclaimed, pointing towards an adjacent corridor to the left of them. 

The small group pushed past the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students, heading down the corridor after the small figure with blond hair. Daphne tried calling after her, but the crowd was too noisy. And too thick, because the next thing they knew Astoria was gone again. 

They continued towards the corridor anyways, finally breaking through the crowd and into the empty hallway. There, not too far from them, was Astoria Greengrass. And she was being held at wandpoint by a Gryffindor. Behind the older Gryfindor was a small figure with red hair. 

Daphne stepped up to defend her sister, but before she had time to cast any spells at the Gryffindor the little figure pushed the older student out of the way. Draco faltered for a moment- that was Ginevra Weasley. A Gryffindor Weasley defending a pure blooded Slytherin. 

Normally, Ginny wouldn’t have been strong enough to push the third year away like that. But he was taken by surprise, and that gave her an advantage. “She wasn’t doing anything to me! She just looked lost so I separated from the Gryffindors to help her!” Ginny shouted. 

“You don’t know much about these Slytherins yet,” the older student sneered, “but you can’t trust them. The little snake would've jinxed you as soon as she got the chance!” 

Draco honestly expected the younger Gryffindor to back down at that point, but she stood her ground. It gave him enough time to send a jinx of his own at the older student, who grumbled in surprise as his hand was struck with a sharp pain and his wand clattered to the ground. 

Daphne took that opportunity to shove her little sister behind her as Theodore stepped up beside Daphne to defend the two of them. The Weasley just looked surprised but...shockingly let a small smirk drift across her lips for a mere second. 

The older Gryffindor regained his composure then, picking up his wand and aiming it at Daphne. He was about to speak when Draco was roughly pushed out of the way by a hasty figure. Draco’s back hit the wall of the corridor and he looked up to see Fred Weasley scowling at the Gryffindor boy. “What’s going on here McLaggen?” Fred Weasley fumed.

“I was saving your sister from these bloody snakes!” Mclaggen proclaimed. Fred Weasley looked at the Slytherins with anger for a split second before he turned to his sibling. 

“That true Ginny?” Fred asked. The younger girl frowned, then she looked at McLaggen with disgust. 

“No Fred. The Slytherins didn’t do anything at all. They were just defending one of their own,” she said calmly. Fred nodded at her before turning to Mclaggen and glaring at him. 

“I think you’d better head to the dorms. We don’t want points taken away this early on, yeah? And remember who my brother happens to be McLaggen. Oh, right. A prefect,” Fred Weasley growled. 

Mclaggen looked like he wanted to protest, but he just threw a sharp glare at the Slytherins and Fred Weasley before lumbering out of the corridor. “Come on Ginny. George is expecting us in the common room. Ron will be there by then as well, I’d expect,” Fred said as he laid an arm over his sister's shoulders and steered her out of the corridor. 

Ginny hesitated, but let him lead her away. Before they left, Astoria stepped up and called out towards the two Gryffindors. “Thank you for...for defending me, and my other housemates.”

Fred looked surprised, but nodded back at her. “Sorry for my housemate’s idiocy,” he said with a small smile. Ginevra Weasley just looked back at the group of green clad students and offered a small, but warm, smile of her own. 

Draco was unable to speak. Of all the things he’d expected...it wasn’t that. Curses, jinxes, shouting, and accusations yes- defense? No. It seemed his other yearmates were in the same position, as Daphne and Theodore just looked in awe at the disappearing forms of the two lions, their mouths agape. 

But when Draco looked back at Astoria she seemed to be rather calm. Her shoulders, once tense, were slack with relief. And she wore a small smile on her face. And when Theodore clapped him on the shoulder and announced that they too should head back to their dorm, well, Draco almost felt bad for giving the Weasley girl that diary. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco’s first day back was exhausting. He woke to whispers of Potter, ate lunch with the company of those same whispers, and ate dinner with the same whispers. Not to mention Gilderoy Lockheart was a joke of a teacher. 

At least he’d been able to write to his father and tell him that the task was completed. Surely, his father would be pleased with his timing. And Snape had mentioned something about bringing up the Potter- Car issue to the school board when Draco had seen him in the dungeons after classes ended too. So, all in all, it wasn’t a total waste of a day. 

Draco settled into the common room after dinner, sitting down on one of the sofas and gathering his charms work from his bag. The other second years- minus Theodore- had settled down around him. They were talking about Lockheart, or, rather, Pansy was gushing over him while the others listened on in disgust. Tuning them out, Draco focused on his reading. 

“Draco, that girl Weasley was in Potter’s compartment yesterday, wasn’t she?” Vincent asked, making Draco look up from his charms book. He looked at Vincent with a raised brow. Admittedly, he didn’t know what the conversation had veered off to. 

“Well it wasn’t exactly Potter’s compartment, was it? He wasn’t on the train yesterday,” Draco responded. He saw both Pansy and Millicent roll their eyes. Millicent may not talk much, but Draco found her to be quite expressive and...logical, strangely enough. 

Blaise smiled sweetly, “You’re deflecting Draco. We-“ he motioned to himself and Astoria- “were discussing Ginevra Weasley's fiery personality, and how she so graciously defended Astoria here. Why would you try deflecting in a conversation like that? It’s perfectly innocent if you ask me.”

Draco looked at Blaise with a bored expression. “Not deflecting Blaise, just stating the facts. We must not forget that Potter decided he was too good for the train yesterday, after all.” Blaise only sent an unimpressed look back at him. 

‘I suppose I was pushing that a bit much- even if I wasn't trying to be suspicious,’ Draco thought. As everyone stared blankly at him he finally let out a long sigh and said, “Alright fine. I wasn’t deflecting, but yes. Ginevra Weasley was in Potter’s compartment yesterday.” 

Blaise nodded, as did Millicent, Daphne, and Pansy. Vincent went back to doodling on a scrap price of parchment, and Draco thought the conversation had ended. But then, Goyle spoke up. “Draco, where’s that fancy looking book you had yesterday?” 

Draco stilled momentarily, but quickly wiped every trace of his shock away. Out of all things, he hadn’t expected the diary to come up in conversation. How had Goyle even seen it? ‘Doesn’t matter. What matters is that they don’t figure things out. Father would kill me if he found out I let other people know about the diary- and how it could resurrect the Dark Lord.’

“I don’t know Goyle. I think I lost it in on the way to the castle,” Draco lied. There was no point denying the diary’s existence. If he did that he’d only look more suspicious. Goyle nodded and didn’t question him further. 

That didn’t stop Millicent or Daphne though, who both continued to look at him uncertainly. “No. You had it in Potter’s compartment and not at all on the way back. I remember that cause’ it had a creepy feeling to it,” Vincent said, looking up from his parchment. Goyle blinked for a second, then nodded vigorously. 

“That’s right. It was really strong magic,” Goyle agreed. Now, Blaise, Pansy and Astoria were looking at him too. And based on everyone’s narrowed eyes, Draco knew he couldn’t get out of this one. 

Well. Draco could play this silent game too. And he did just that, picking up his book and rereading the paragraph he left off on. Pansy cleared her throat before speaking in a sickeningly casual voice, “Draco darling, what was this book exactly?” 

“Family heirloom,” Draco responded- his voice equally casual. Draco looked up from his book momentarily, and saw Blaise open his mouth to refute his statement. He couldn’t let them figure this out. He hated to show weakness, even if it was made up, but he had to do this. 

Draco made his face scrunch up in worry, and he let the book fall limply from his hands. “Blaise, don’t, please,” he pleaded. “I can’t find the heirloom and my father will be very upset if I’ve lost it. So, I don’t want to think about it right now.” Draco was feigning his sorrow, his worry. He was manipulating his friends but...family came first. His father came first. They’d understand if they were in his position.

Blaise looked upset for a fraction of a second before he cleared his expression. “Fine. Sorry Draco,” he apologized. Thankfully, his performance must’ve worked if Blaise was fooled; he was the most skeptical out of all of them. 

And it did work. Draco looked around at everyone else and saw them look away from him, or lower their head in an apologetic gesture. And that was the end of the conversation. Everyone either stood up and went to bed, or silently worked on their own assignments. 

Somewhere deep down, Draco felt bad that he'd fooled his friends like that. ‘Family first Draco,’ he heard his father saying. And if it took Draco a couple of minutes of repeating the mantra for him to finally get rid of the guilty feeling, then that was ok. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next day Draco decided to study in the library. He didn’t want to be interrogated again, and he really did need to finish his reading. And he was uninterrupted for quite some time, but then a finger tapped in the center of his book, grabbing his attention. When he looked up, he found Daphne Greengrass hovering above him. 

Astoria was behind her, he noted. “Draco, you owe my sister a massive favor,” Daphne smiled. Draco looked at her inquiringly, then turned to look at Astoria who was smiling shyly. 

“Oh, and why do I owe her a favor?” Draco smirked. 

“Well, only because she happened to find your precious family heirloom,” Daphne said, in a triumphant tone. Draco’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be possible. 

But it was possible. Astoria stepped up to the table and laid the black diary on it gently. “I wanted to thank Ginevra again for defending me after the feast. For a Gryfindor, she isn’t all that bad. And I just thought I’d give her a small gift along with my thank you. When I mentioned you losing your book- a powerful book- she said that she’d found it in her trunk funnily enough,” Astoria explained.

Daphne nodded. “Astoria realized how important that heirloom was to you and decided to ask Ginevra about it, since she was in Potter’s compartment when you were,” Daphne said in a playful tone. 

“Ginevra said she really didn’t know how it got in her trunk, and she looked very relieved when I brought the subject up. She told me she was trying to find the owner, but didn’t even know where to begin,” Astoria said calmly. “And, really, when she got the book for me there was no mistaking that it was yours. It has a really fancy cover, and a strong aura.”

At that, Daphne abruptly slapped Draco on the shoulder. “You really should know better than to leave something with an aura that strong out in the open. And losing it? No wonder your father would’ve been upset! Any teacher besides Snape would’ve confiscated it for sure!” Daphne whisper shouted- aware Madam Prince or a lurking student could potentially be eavesdropping. 

Draco nodded numbly. He didn’t hear the rest of Daphne’s words, but he did put on a false grin and excessively thank both girls at the end of her tirade. Once they left, Draco turned to the diary in front of him. He was back to square one. And worse, he’d already told his father that he’d given the diary away. 

Draco was paralyzed with fear. His father really would kill him for messing up this badly. He couldn’t give the diary back to the Weaslette; she would just return it to him, or become suspicious and turn the diary in to the professors. And he couldn’t return home during the break without the diary being delivered to someone else.

But who else was there? It had to be someone close to Potter- more than acquaintances, but not necessarily friends. Someone who had information on Potter no doubt. And yet, it had to be someone who wouldn’t turn the diary in as well. 

Draco thought about his options, and dismissed each one. An idea struck him. He wasn’t Potter’s friend...but he did know a lot about the annoying Gryffindor. He was his enemy, so naturally, he kept a close eye on Potter. And now, he was grateful for that. 

Check. He had a relationship with Potter, one where he could provide information on him to whoever asked. And check again. Because clearly, he wouldn’t turn himself in. 

He could do this. His father may not like the Weasleys but...he wouldn’t seriously hurt them. Not only that, but if this object was really dangerous he wouldn’t have gotten Draco involved at all- much less give him the dangerous object. And he was a supporter of his father’s beliefs, therefore a supporter of the Dark Lord. So, the diary couldn’t actually hurt him. There was too much evidence to support that. 

It was settled. Draco would just have to revive the Dark Lord, and complete his father’s task without the Weasley girl’s involvement. He had no other choice. 

And with that, Draco shoved the diary into his bag and made his way to the Great Hall. He would eat dinner, and after that work on Transfiguration homework. Then he would go to his dorm early, and actually open the diary. Then he would write in it, and everything would be fine. He would obey the Dark Lord’s commands. And he would do this all on his own. He would do this for his family; for his father.

‘Family first.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter took as long as it did to update; life’s just been hectic. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can’t wait to start working on the next one! As always, thank you for the nice comments and the kudos- I really do appreciate it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated~ have a great day!


	4. Tom Riddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco meets the Dark Lord’s former self, and is surprised by the result. Oh, and he has to deal with Potter’s disasterous (lack of) potion’s skills.

A cold breeze seemed to drift around the Slytherin dorm room. The chill was strong; and even though the fire blazed warmly Draco couldn’t seem to escape the cold. He stared down at his hands and saw them slightly shaking. At least the cold gave him an excuse for the small tremors. 

But even as he protested, he knew deep down that the tremors were caused by fear. The chattering of his friend’s voices had drifted away hours ago- as they all broke off one by one and headed to bed. Draco had been the last to leave the common room, and as he made his way to his dorm he couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous. 

Eventually, after hours of lying in bed pretending to be asleep, he heard the breaths of his dorm mates slow. He knew they were all asleep now, and that it was time. Since making his decision in the library Draco seemed to feel the diary growing more and more excited; as if it knew it would soon be used. 

Draco stealthily crept out of bed and grabbed the diary from his school bag. He then grabbed a quill and a bottle of ink from his nightstand before making his way to the sofas in the far right of the dorm room. Every dorm room had a small sitting area and fireplace to make up for the chill that usually accompanied the dungeons. 

When it was really cold- usually during winter- it wasn’t unusual to see a Slytherin or two curled up asleep in front of the fireplace on one of the sofas, seeking some warmth. Of course, the upper years had mastered especially powerful warming charms so they didn’t rely on the fireplaces that much, but they were a nice touch.

Draco had sat in front of the fireplace for some time; just watching the flames flicker and rise, then start to die out before resurgeing again. ‘House elf magic, no doubt.’ He’d also opened the ink bottle and dipped the quill in, and just watched the ink slowly drip from it and dry out. He couldn’t bring himself to put the quill to the diary’s parchment. 

Yet, he did eventually do it. One thought of his father’s furious face and his mother’s disappointed gaze gave him a rush of motivation. He opened the diary and let his fingers graze over the pages. Redipping his quill in the ink he pressed the tip of the quill to the parchment, and his breath hitched as he wrote out a simple greeting.

‘Hello. I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, and I am at your service. By the word of my father I shall strive to aid you in any and all tasks.’

At first he didn’t think anything would happen. The words had blinked back at him for a fraction of a second before they were absorbed by the parchment. Draco held his breath, expecting a voice to whisper through his mind, or possibly a vision to appear before him. Neither happened. 

Instead, Draco was greeted by a shimmering of ink on the once blank parchment. Words started to form, and Draco held the diary out towards the fire to see them more clearly. 

‘Greetings, Mr. Malfoy. I thank thee for the proclamation of loyalty. Though you likely know my true identity, my former self occupies these pages. So please, address me as Tom Riddle for the time being.’

Draco could feel his pulse rising as he read the words. Nevertheless, he simply twirled the quill through his fingers and started writing again. 

‘Tom riddle. What do you ask of me?’

‘Now now, Draco. Don’t be so hasty. I believe the best way to strengthen this bond is by getting to know each other better, don’t you think?’ 

Draco’s brows furrowed as he bit his lower lip slightly. He hesitated, but continued the conversation. 

‘Of course. What do you want to know?’

‘I’m quite curious to see how Hogwarts has changed since my time. Let’s start there- with your time at school.’

For the rest of the night Draco had described Hogwarts to the Dark Lord. The staff, Dumbledore, the non-existent house unity, and the star of Hogwarts- Harry Potter. Tom Riddle seemed particularly interested in both Dumbledore and Potter, which wasn’t a surprise. But what did surprise Draco was how Riddle always brought the conversation back to him- like he wanted to know more about Draco above all else.

Which, quite frankly, didn’t make any sense to Draco. Why would the Dark Lord be more interested in a second year Slytherin than the person who killed him? Or, for that matter, one of the most powerful wizards in existence? 

Nonetheless, Draco answered the Dark Lords questions- every one of them. He told him about his magical expertise, his immense loathing for Harry Potter and his friends, and his family. He didn't realize how much time was flying by, and was only aware of it when he heard a muttering from the other side of the room. 

Draco was jostled from his focus, and when he looked towards the noise he was pleased to realize that the sound was only a very asleep Blaise mumbling some nonsense. Draco felt his body relax after that, but the aftershock of almost being caught made him realize he’d been too careless. 

He cursed under his breath, and he cast a quick ‘Tempus’ spell. Upon seeing the time Draco groaned- classes were going to be a pain. With a final goodbye to Tom Riddle, Draco closed the diary gently and immediately felt a wave of exhaustion fall upon him. Strangely, he felt sharper- like he could see things clearer, and actually make sense of things. 

That wouldn’t have concerned him normally, but with how tired he was he definitely should not have felt that clear minded. Shrugging it off, Draco placed the quill and ink off to the side and pulled the diary closer to him. He then laid down on the sofa and let sleep embrace him.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

As expected, the day was a difficult one for Draco. He’d only gotten about 2 hours worth of sleep, and yet, he felt as if he’d gotten none. All his dorm mates questioned him about his exhaustion- under the impression he’d fallen asleep not long after them- and Draco had to pretend he was not as tired as he really was. Of course, when this didn't work the girls all became concerned that he’d fallen ill and promptly sent him to Madam Pomfrey. 

Madam Pomfrey took one look at Draco and tutted. “A Pepper-up potion for you dear? This’ll be the third one I’ve given a student this morning alone. Honestly, what are those professors thinking- giving you lot so much work you exhaust yourselves on the third day of classes?” 

Draco nodded in response, and as Pomfrey continued to grumble about irresponsible professors and the like, Draco sighed internally. He almost wished he’d spent the entire night studying or working on assignments. Instead, he’d been talking to the Dark Lord as if he were a distant relative. 

What’s more, Draco was a little suspicious of the diary and how it worked. He had a theory that it made the reader entirely focused on the diary- doing this by placing them in a trance like state- and possibly absorbing some of their strength as well. He believed this because he could think of no other explanation for his intense exhaustion, and how he’d managed to lose track of time so easily. 

Draco was very diligent, and he would never stay up as late as he had knowing he’d have classes in the morning- the exception being he was working on assignments or studying for an exam. Weekends were the obvious inconsistency, as Draco could spend hours staying up in the common room with the other Slytherins. 

Despite that, Draco knew he should be marginally worried; any other person would be. Most wizards- even pure blooded ones- didn't enjoy an object having power over them, even if it was to serve an almighty force. Yet, Draco had expected something like this. He wasn’t stupid. He knew writing in the diary would have effects on him because it had had effects on him when he “wasn’t” writing in it. 

To be honest, he’d sort of expected worse. To feel ill maybe- possibly even having constant nightmares. But that wasn’t the case. Draco felt tremendously tired, but the Pepper up potion should clear that up swiftly. And he had slept rather soundly too. No nightmares, no nothing. 

As he’d pondered this, Madam Pomfrey had retrieved a Pepper-up potion and shoved it in Draco’s hands. Draco nodded at her in thanks and took the potion, immediately feeling the build up of heat being released from his ears. He stayed in the hospital wing for a moment longer, and when the potion's side effects had dulled- and he felt the drowsiness seep away- he had given the empty bottle back to Madam Pomfrey and headed to the Great Hall. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco stopped writing in the diary for a few days after that first experience. If writing in it would constantly wear him out, then he needed to regain some strength before writing in it again so he’d still be of use to the Dark Lord. Plus, exhaustion really wasn’t a good look on him- and if he continued to look tired his friends would become suspicious. 

In fact, Draco was surprised they hadn’t questioned him further. He was grateful for this, but he certainly hadn’t expected it. He supposed Daphne had come close to asking Draco about the diary once, but Theodore gave her a sharp jab in the side before she could say anything. At least Draco wouldn’t have to lie to his friends as much. And if they could be kept out of this for now, that would be the best outcome. 

However, Draco couldn’t ignore the diary forever. And he decided to write in it again when he started having nightmares. It was the same as during the summer- Draco couldn’t remember what he'd been dreaming of, but he knew it scared him. And so, he waited until his dorm mates were fast asleep before taking the diary out of his trunk, and grabbing a quill, ink, and a lantern. 

He lit the lantern with a wave of his hand, and he shut the curtains around his bed. This time he disregarded his hesitation, and started to write. 

‘Tom Riddle, I apologize for my absence.’

‘No need to apologize, Draco. May I ask why you were absent?’

‘The diary absorbs my strength, doesn’t it?’

‘You’re a clever one. Quite different from your father. But yes, your assumption is correct.’

‘Then that’s why. I need some strength if I am to help you.’

‘Don’t worry about that Draco. I have control over this diary, you know. I won’t let it take all of your strength. In fact, I can give you strength should I need to.’

Draco didn’t know what to make of that. He supposed it was meant to be comforting, but it just made him feel uncomfortable.

‘What do you need me to do for you?’

‘More of that? Draco, I aim to build a bond with you. I can’t let you help me until we both mutually trust each other.’ 

‘How can I make you trust me?’

‘I’ve never trusted those I haven't seen before. Words are a powerful thing, but they can’t reveal as much emotion as one’s eyes can.’

‘How will you ever trust me then?’

‘There’s a way. I can meet with you in person, if you’d like?’

‘How?’

‘Trust me. It all comes back to trust, doesn’t it?’

Draco didn't want to know what Tom Riddle was implying. But he did have an idea of what he’d be getting into when he started this. And unless he wanted to disappoint his father and displease the Dark Lord...he had no choice but to do as Riddle said. 

‘I want to meet you.’

With that the diary absorbed the ink as it usually did, but this time there was no response. Instead, Draco just felt the world get distorted, and he realized he couldn’t seem to move his fingers anymore. His vision was blurring, and he felt as though he should just close his eyes and rest. He did just that, but was met with a falling sensation rather than the comfort of his bed. 

It lasted for seconds, but Draco was so dazed that it felt like hours. Finally, Draco felt as though he’d landed. It wasn't a hard landing like he’d vaguely been expecting, and instead he felt like he’d landed softly in a pool of water. 

As Draco tried to open his eyes he found that he couldn’t, and he still felt that sense of drowsiness. It was as if he was aware of his surroundings subconsciously, but he couldn’t seem to do anything- nor did he care enough to do anything. 

Eventually, the feeling was swept away. It was a slow process, but soon enough Draco felt the lethargy melt and give way to clarity once more. When Draco opened his eyes he saw nothing. A plain black canvas that seemed to have depth, and that reminded him of a night sky without the moon or stars. 

Yet, even with the darkness surrounding him, Draco could clearly see his hand wave dully across his face. He also felt like he was floating, and when he slowly sat up and looked around him he realized he “was” in a pool of water.

‘No, this can’t be water,’ Draco thought. It was too dark, and it felt too light. The not-water wasn’t dragging him down, though it looked as if the pool of liquid was deep enough to do so. And Draco didn’t feel the liquid either, it just felt like he was lying in air. 

“Perplexed, are we?” A voice rose from the darkness. Draco bristled, but wasn’t all that surprised. He hadn’t forgotten what he was meant to be doing; even if the dazed state had left him a tad bit unfocused. 

Looking towards the voice Draco saw a figure drift into focus. A tall man with coiffed hair and Slytherin robes approached him. When he had stepped in front of Draco he held out his left hand elegantly, and Draco gave him a nod of thanks and took the hand before him. He was helped up, and was surprised to sense that his feet were indeed touching solid ground.

“It’s a strange phenomenon, I know. But you get used to it,” The man remarked as he gracefully let go of Draco's hand and stepped around him. “This way, just follow me.” 

Draco didn’t know what he’d been expecting from Tom Riddle- the Dark Lord- when he’d agreed to meet him, but a charming Slytherin 7th year was not it. Nonetheless, he followed the boy through the murky liquid and eventually to a shore. 

The shore consisted of black gravel-like rocks, and as Riddle led him up the shoreline they came to a small hut. The place was abnormal, in fact, this entire realm was eerie. And when Draco really pondered it, he supposed it made sense. This was a realm that wasn’t supposed to exist- and was made up of very dark magic.

When they stepped into the hut Riddle gestured for Draco to have a seat on the black bed. Everything here seemed to lack color except for Draco and Riddle, and the objects were simply defined by depth and shading. It was like being in a strange monochromatic portrait. 

“I’m guessing you have questions?” Tom Riddle asked, giving Draco a charming smile. Draco nodded slowly. “Then ask away Draco, we’re meant to be friends aren’t we?” 

Draco wouldn’t say they were friends exactly, but he didn’t bother correcting the Dark Lord’s former self. “So, are we in the diary then?” Draco couldn't imagine where else they would be. 

“Correct. It’s where I’ve resided since my creation.”

“And it’s colorless? And you can’t...feel anything?” 

“Yes. It’s made up of ink actually. And things work differently here. Since I’m not alive like you are I needn’t worry about starvation, disease, dehydration, or anything else really,” Tom Riddle said this with an air of nonchalance. 

It made sense to Draco, strangely enough. It was easy to forget Tom Riddle wasn’t alive because of how animated he and the diary seemed to be. But then, it wouldn’t really make sense if he was alive either. 

“Since you aren’t alive, I imagine you don’t get bored here. I mean, a person who is alive would be driven to insanity in a place like this...right? Dismissing the other concerns, of course,” Draco mumbled. He tended to voice his theories aloud a lot.

Riddle gave him a small smile, “Yes. You know, I’m glad your father’s plan didn’t work out. That Weasley girl wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting as you.” 

Draco blanched, “You mean, you can understand what happens when the diary isn’t being written in?” 

“Of course. I need to know who has the diary in their possession, don’t I? If, say, Dumbledore had the diary, I would need to know that to stay safe, wouldn’t I?” Riddle mused. 

“That makes sense. So, you knew about the original plan then?” 

“I did. It didn’t work out, did it? No matter, you are a much better candidate for the task than some first year Gryffindor anyway.” 

Draco perked up at that. He hoped he knew what the Slytherin was implying. “You’ll let me help you now?” 

“In a moment. I've met you, but I’ve also met your father. And though you seem nothing like him, I must be sure.” Tom Riddle said this in a cool voice, one that had Draco slightly nervous. 

“Sure of what?” Draco questioned, and he almost regretted asking that when Riddle swept forwards towards him and tilted his face upwards so he could peer into his eyes.

“Your father is a coward Draco Malfoy. And I must be sure that you aren’t. You will prove two things tonight; one, that I can indeed trust you- and two, that you aren’t a coward like Lucius,” Riddle bit out.

Draco could tell the fear and shock shone in his eyes brightly, and he didn’t dare to hide his emotions. The Dark Lord wanted honesty, and so, Draco would provide it. He gulped, “How can I prove that?”

“Easy. First off, why are you so eager to help me? Secondly, what do you expect from this? And finally, do you trust me? I’ll know if you’re lying, and don’t break eye contact either.”

The Dark Lord’s former self was tricky, and Draco didn't want to know how much worse his present self would be. Yet, he responded attentively- as his mother had taught him. “I want to help you so I can bring honour to my family, and so I can fulfill my debt to my father. I expect protection for me and my family by serving you. No, I don’t trust you. But I’ll do what you ask because I’m not a fool- you could kill me anytime you wish.”

Riddle looked at him curiously, and then smirked. He released his hold on Draco and stepped back. “You were honest. I will never trust you completely Draco Malfoy, for I am no fool either. People do things that will benefit themselves, and if that means betraying others then so be it. However, you are a perfect candidate, and so, I will allow your help.”

Draco sagged in relief. He had passed the Dark Lords ‘test,’ and would be able to get this whole thing over with. 

“Now, I said you had to prove you aren’t a coward, didn’t I? Unfortunately, honesty won’t allow for a test of courage. I have a task for you, one you won’t enjoy. But if you can manage it- and ask no questions afterwards- you’ll have passed.”

It seemed simple enough to Draco. He hadn’t been expecting any of the Dark Lord’s tasks to be anywhere near pleasant anyways. “Alright. Do what you need to,” Draco said determinedly.

With that, Riddle stepped towards Draco once more, and muttered something under his breath. Draco couldn’t process what he was saying, but the next thing he knew he had blacked out once more. This time though, his subconscious wasn’t around to comfort him or process his surroundings.

______________________________________________________________

When he finally came to it was morning. The sound of the other Slytherin boys getting ready for the day was what woke him. Draco sat up groggily, and he groaned. The diary was splayed open next to his chest, and he was lying in bed atop his sheets with his blanket falling over his legs. 

He felt awful. He was exhausted even after seemingly sleeping, or being knocked out, or whatever had left him unconscious. And his body felt immense fatigue. Not to mention his head was pounding, and his muscles ached. 

He felt like one would after getting over a severe cold, and having to now deal with the aftereffects of it. Wiping at his eyes Draco muttered curses under his breath. ‘What did that bloody bastard do to me?’ 

It wasn’t as if Draco could ask him either. He’d made it abundantly clear that Draco couldn’t ask questions. ‘If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to know what happened,’ Draco thought bitterly.

“Oi! Is somebody gonna wake the Slytherin prince up? We can’t be late to breakfast.” A Slytherin shouted. From the sounds of it, Theodore was the one who had said that. 

Before he could be bombarded, Draco tugged the curtains away and stepped out of bed. “Don’t bother. I’m up.” 

At the sound of his voice everyone in the room turned to look at him. They all wore an expression of amusement, and a slight bit of worry. “...mate, what happened to you? You look dreadful,” Blaise remarked.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I feel dreadful Blaise. And to answer your question, Charms happened. That oaf Flitwick assigned multiple essays, you know.”

“Those aren’t due till next week Draco,” Goyle pointed out. Draco sighed internally, because of course he knew they weren't due till next week. But he needed a good cover story, so he had to sacrifice his competence slightly. 

He acted bewildered, then outraged. “Seriously?!” He said with a whiny tone. 

Everyone in the room laughed, and Draco pretended to be annoyed as he got ready. During that moment of distraction though, Draco reached for the diary and shoved it in his school bag. Normally he didn’t like hanging on to it, but he didn't have enough time to hide it properly. 

Sure, his dorm mates knew about it- but he wanted to avoid questions. And, out of sight out of mind- right?

Once he was ready everyone left to get breakfast. The girls were at the table already, and Blaise didn’t hesitate to fill them in on Draco’s mistake. Draco acted bothered by it, but really it gave him an excellent excuse to stay out of the morning’s conversation. He was still tired, and he felt sick. 

But going to Madam Pomfrey was no use. She would want to know why he had come to her twice in such a short time span. Draco wasn’t naive enough to think she would buy his cover story this time. And if she did, well, she would probably talk with his teachers about the fatigue. Which would only lead to Snape being suspicious of him, and the other teachers believing he couldn’t handle a second year’s workload. Which would make him look worse than Granger- again. 

That left Draco with one option- struggle through the day until he could get back to his dorm and sleep. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Of course, life wouldn’t be that nice to Draco- he had to have a complicated day after all. So it was no wonder that Draco was detesting potions that morning, because he'd have to deal with Potter, the other lousy Gryffindors, and his watchful godfather.

Pansy seemed to sense his dread, so she gave Draco a light pat on the shoulder. He smiled at her sullenly. 

The classroom door was open when they arrived, and so the Slytherin’s took their seats and got ready for class. Draco was sitting with Blaise today, and Pansy was in front of them. As the desks had been transfigured to accommodate two people rather than three, Draco presumed they would be doing partner work today. 

“Dracoo, Blaaaise- will one of you please come sit next to me?” Pansy whined, drawing out the two boy’s names. Blaise gave her a look that signaled for her to explain herself, and Pansy sighed. “Since we’re doing partner work today I need to work with someone reliable since I got such a bad mark on that last assignment. And if one of you doesn’t sit with me I’ll have to work with Vincent, which means I-“

Draco cut her off, “Won’t be able to receive a high enough mark to make up for the bad one. I get it. But Vincent usually works with Gregory so I don’t see why you’re so worried.” 

“Actually, she has a point. Look,” Blaise said, pointing in the direction of Vincent. Sure enough, the boy was sitting by himself as Gregory appeared to be sitting with Tracy. 

Draco hummed in response. So Tracy must be helping Gregory then. Looking around the room he realized Daphne was working with Millicent. Theodore happened to be Pansy’s saving grace, “Blaise, sit with Pansy so she’ll stop complaining. I’ll sit with Vincent. Draco, you’ll probably have to work with a Gryffindor, but you have the most patience for them when it comes to potions anyways.”

The three Slytherin’s nodded in agreement and moved accordingly. Draco didn’t mind working with a Gryffindor as long as they didn’t behave foolishly- which, they would undoubtedly do. Still, he had no energy to be upset about it today.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

He thought he had no energy to be upset. In reality, that changed when the classroom door opened once more and the Gryffindor students trailed in. They were as loud as ever, and they scrambled to get into a seat and pull their potions’ texts out. 

At the end of the “herd” was the famous Golden trio. Granger went to sit at their usual table, and upon noticing the desk transfiguration Weasley and Potter started to quietly whisper amongst themselves. At the end of their discussion Weasley dejectedly sat next to Granger, and Potter scanned the room for an empty seat. 

As luck would have it, Snape chose that moment to enter the classroom. He immediately turned his attention on Potter, and Potter scowled in return. “Mr. Potter. Take a seat.”

“There’s nowhere to sit, professor,” Potter grit out. Anger flared in Snape’s eyes as he stared at Potter with cold fury. Draco simply chuckled lightly. Maybe this morning wasn’t all bad.

….And he spoke too soon. Because without breaking eye contact with Potter, Snape pointed towards Draco. “Don’t be daft. There’s a seat next to Mr. Malfoy.”

Potter grit his teeth and sulkily walked over to Draco. He set his bag down and took a seat before continuing to fire an angry glare at Snape. 

Draco did love to see Snape and Potter argue, as it usually ended with Potter being put in his place. But right now, Draco wished Snape wouldn’t drag him into this mess. So, he joined Potter and gave his godfather a truly menacing glare (as menacing a glare as a second year could give, anyways). 

Snape ignored the two of them, and started his instruction. Potter looked on with a bored expression, but he still referenced the textbook whenever Snape commanded- so Draco knew he was clearly paying attention. Since they were learning how to brew a swelling solution Draco took a few notes, but couldn’t be bothered to take extensive ones as he was familiar with the potion already. 

This was the one class that he knew he’d always beat Granger in, and it wasn’t because of nepotism or Slytherin bias either. Draco was just extraordinarily skilled at potions, and the concepts came easy to him. Yes, it had helped to grow up with a Potions master as his godfather, but Draco could proudly say that he caught on fast enough even without Snape’s instruction. 

Once the instructions for brewing the potion were on the blackboard Draco turned to look at the menace next to him. “You fetch the ingredients Potter, surely you can’t mess up a task that simple.” 

Pansy snickered from in front of them, and Potter scowled. “Why not get them yourself, Malfoy?”

“In case you’ve forgotten this is a partnered brewing session, and I know how dreadful you are in this class. You need to do something to get credit, and I won’t have your idiocy mucking up the potion. Plus, I don’t feel like getting the ingredients,” Draco shrugged. He slowly started to tidy up their workstation (even though it was practically spotless already), and Potter just rolled his eyes at him. 

He stood up and went to fetch the ingredients from the storage while Draco just smirked in satisfaction- Draco had clearly won this time.

______________________________________________________________

The two boys were almost through the brewing session when an error occurred. Potter had started to put the nettle in the cauldron when Draco caught his wrist in midair, swiftly lowering it down- and away from the cauldron. Potter looked surprised, then annoyed. 

Draco felt his heart beating rapidly before he released his hold on the moron. He let out a shaky breath, and then scolded Potter. “What were you thinking?! You could’ve paralyzed us!” Draco whisper-shouted. 

The pair received a few intrigued glances, and Potter flushed in embarrassment. “What do you mean Malfoy? The instructions say to place the nettle in after the puffer fish-eyes, and that’s what I was doing,” Potter whispered back. 

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, you are correct about that. However, the instructions also say it needs to be “dried” nettle, not “fresh” nettle.” 

At that, Potter resumed his embarrassed expression and sat up to get the dried nettle from the storage closet. Draco shook his head and finally calmed down. ‘I swear, that Gryffindor will kill us all one day. And he’s supposed to be the bloody saviour of the wizarding world.’ 

When Potter returned he placed the dried nettle in the cauldron, and Draco stirred the potion three times counterclockwise. Now, they needed to wait for five minutes and then they would be finished. Draco looked up at Potter and scoffed, “Honestly, how could you not realize the instructions called for dried nettle- are you illiterate?” 

Potter’s gaze narrowed, and he replied with, “I wasn’t paying attention Malfoy. Now, shove off.”

Draco would’ve accepted that normally, but he found this suspicious. Potter was clearly paying attention earlier, and the instructions weren’t difficult to understand. Since they were written on the blackboard, Potter couldn’t have forgotten them either. A fleeting thought struck Draco just then- Potter seemed to squint a lot. 

He did that earlier when Snape first put the instructions on the board, and Draco could recall him doing it on many other occasions too. During Quidditch matches, in other classes, even during their confrontations. He’d thought it was a habit of some sort, but perhaps...no. 

Draco shook the thoughts off. It wasn’t his problem. He wasn’t going to think about that anymore- he was still feeling tired, and he wasn’t about to waste more energy on Potter. 

With that, Draco pointed his wand at the fire under the cauldron, and gradually toned the flames down until the fire was completely gone. Afterwards, he placed their potion in a bottle. Giving it to Harry, he ordered him to give it to Snape while he cleaned their (not so spotless) workstation. 

Once class ended Snape attempted to corner him, but Draco slipped away before he could do so. He didn’t need another person questioning him on his tired demeanor. He knew he'd need to talk with Snape soon, but now was not the time.

The rest of the day went by quickly, and before Draco knew it, dinner was over and he was heading to the Slytherin common room. Once there he brushed his friends off and went straight to the dorm room. He placed his bag down and didn't bother to get changed into nightclothes- he just wanted to sleep. And so, he laid down on his bed and did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this chapter took longer to complete, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. In actuality, I really like the story’s timing in correlation to our real world timing because I plan to release the next chapter (that involves the Halloween feast) on/near Halloween. Thank you so much for reading this, and I am so grateful for all the support! Constructive criticism is appreciated- have a lovely week.


	5. Her inquiries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is confronted by both Snape and Daphne, but one of them gets too close to the truth. Once things are settled, Draco can't seem to remember certain events, and he looks forward to Halloween where, surely, he'll get a break from all of his worries. Right?

Draco honestly couldn’t tell how long it took to recover. He still felt lingering exhaustion for a good while, but at least he was able to fully function by the fourth day. His friends hadn’t brought it up. And that...surprised him?

Draco always regarded his friends as people whom he didn’t mind conversing and joking with, and people who he hoped to know forever. They sparked something lighthearted and free in him; something he didn’t feel at home, or in classes. He had grown up with these people, and he knew so much about them. And in turn...they knew so much more about Draco than anyone else. 

It was a good relationship. But Draco knew he’d always be divided from his friends in a way nobody else would. He had to put his friends in fourth place. Always. 

First was family. Draco had to care for his mother and father- as well as their overall reputation- first and foremost. He had to ensure he carried the Malfoy name with pride, and bring the Malfoy’s honour. This was more important than anything else, and he would do whatever he needed to to keep his family- and their name- safe.

Second- Ministry officials. The best way to keep his family safe was to be in the Ministry's good graces. He had to know every important person's name by heart- with one glance he should be able to identify them, and automatically recall their family history. He also needed to know who was most trustworthy, and who liked him the most. He wasn’t as good at this as his father was, but he was far more advanced than anyone else his age- and that was enough for now.

Third- Himself. He wouldn’t hesitate to put himself in danger to defend his family. Theoretically, he knew he should be second on the list. But if he was being honest with himself...he didn’t care much for his safety or wellbeing. No, he wasn’t suicidal- but he did lack a sufficient amount of care for himself. Though, when threatened by others, he wouldn’t hesitate to use any means available to take the threat down.

His friends came after all that. To most, their friends would be in second or third place. Or, they wouldn’t even be ranked. Not to mention most people his age wouldn’t think of a possibility where they’d have to hurt and lose their friends for the sake of their own self interest. 

But Draco was different. He was this way because he had to be. And he didn’t mind it too much. Why would he even dream about a reality where he could be completely carefree when it would never be possible? He didn’t mind his situation. If he didn’t give thought to fantasies, he could adapt.

Yet, the whole point of this was that his friends felt similarly. They must, because they’re Slytherins as well. And they understood family and purpose. He knew they wouldn’t hesitate to leave him if his reputation dropped dramatically, or if their parents ordered them to. 

So, when his friends didn’t fuss over him like they normally would’ve...Draco felt...something. Anger? No. He knew what it was. What a ridiculous thing to feel hurt about. He scolded himself for feeling this way. Draco knew better than to feel sad over something so pointless. He should’ve expected it anyways. Why didn’t he?

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Mr. Malfoy, stay back,” Snape’s cutting voice stopped Draco in his tracks. Potions was over, and Draco had been hoping to avoid the professor for a little longer by sneaking out of the class amidst the other Slytherins. ‘Damn Snape and his observational skills. The man’s far too astute sometimes.’

Draco nodded to Pansy and Blaise- telling them they could go straight to the Great Hall for lunch instead of waiting around for him. They gave him a short nod back, and continued to chat happily as they walked out of the classroom. 

Once everyone had finally left- and Potter gave them a particularly accusing glare- Snape looked over at him with a deep set frown. He winced- this was an angry Snape. And Draco wasn’t particularly fond of his godfather when he was angry. Especially when he was angry at "him". 

“Care to explain why you’ve been avoiding me?” Snape sneered. He strode over to his desk and forcefully pulled his chair out before taking a seat. He gestured impatiently to the seat opposite him. 

Draco hesitantly joined his godfather. The two of them sat there in silence for a good while. They just observed one another silently, and Draco willed himself to clear his expressions away completely. 

As expected, Snape wasn’t an easy read. Really, Draco got nothing from him. Finally, Draco gave in. “I wasn’t avoiding you professor. I’ve just been busy as of late.” 

“I wasn’t aware this was a formal conversation Draco. I believed we were talking godfather to godson,” Snape said, raising an eyebrow at the blond. 

Draco cursed himself. He should’ve known Snape would interpret his use of his formal title as a defensive strategy. ‘Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong…’

“Sorry Severus. As I’ve said, I have a lot going on right now.”

“Oh really, and what are you so "preoccupied" with then?” Severus questioned. Draco really hated that his godfather was so Slytherin sometimes- the calmness he wore right now made Draco jealous. 

Draco shrugged. ‘Two can play this game. I’ll just act calm too...even if he's far better at acting that part than I am.’ He cleared his throat, “Just assignments. I’ve been doing some extra research too...stuff my father wanted me to look into. And of course I have a social life to maintain.” 

Severus hummed, “Yes, I suppose you would be busy then. Still, it doesn’t explain why you couldn't stay back after class to say hello. Additionally, you seem more worn out. Surely you have time to complete your father's request at a later date? He wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself to death.” 

Draco’s mouth felt dry. Severus was right. His father would never order Draco to harm his academic or social careers; even if he requested he work on a side project, he wouldn’t expect Draco to put it above his other priorities. ‘But...hasn’t he done exactly that this year?’ Draco’s mind countered. 

‘No. This is of the utmost importance. It’s different in that way, because my family’s future is reliant on this task,’ Draco tried to reason with himself. He couldn”t help but think that his academics and social life was the key to "his" future though, and that his father would want to respect his life too- not just his legacy. ‘He doesn’t even know I’m writing in the diary anyway,’ he added as an afterthought. 

Brushing that aside, Draco returned back to the present. “He wouldn’t want that,” Draco agreed. “But I know this research means a lot to him, and it’s imperative I learn it before the summer holiday. At the end of the semester there’s always so much work, and then exams to worry about. I can’t procrastinate on this. Besides, I want to do this for him.”

A small part of Draco’s mind congratulated him on the fact that he was able to mix a smidge of the truth into this. It made him sound believable. At the same time, he hated how it made him inadvertently confront his emotions towards the diary, and the task in general. It made him wonder about what Riddle had done to him- and he really didn’t want his thoughts to go there. 

“I’m glad you are so passionate about this. It shows how much you care for your future, and your father,” Severus added that last part as an afterthought. He’d clearly assumed his father’s research was something pureblood related. 

Severus considered Draco for a moment. He wouldn’t lie to himself, the boy looked awful. And he also knew he was lying- ‘Though not completely,’ his mind supplied. A normal person would consider Draco’s words and give in at this point. He was doing remarkably well, and could probably fool a lot of adults too. 

But Severus wasn’t a normal person, much less a normal adult. He’d been trained to seek out lies, and being a Hogwarts professor had only helped him to stay in practice. Especially when dealing with sneaky Slytherins, creative Ravenclaws, stubborn Gryffindors, and loyal Hufflepuffs. 

Still, he knew Draco wouldn’t cave at this point. That didn’t mean the battle was over. On the contrary, it had just begun. Unfortunately for Draco, Severus was stubborn when he wanted to be. And now? He wanted to be. Despite his initial reasons for accepting Draco as his godson, he did care for the boy. He’d grown on him. And he had hope he could become more than just his father’s clone. 

Begrudgingly, he said, “Very well. Do try and manage your time more adequately so you don’t fall asleep in my class again. Next time you do, you’ll find the results aren’t going to be pleasant. I’m not above a week’s worth of theory work.”

Draco’s face paled slightly, and he looked genuinely scared. Then, he quickly tried to stifle a laugh. “You’re threatening me with theory work?” 

“You’re saying you want theory work? For a week?” Snape said, raising an eyebrow. Draco nodded vigorously in response to that.

“No, definitely not! Theory bores me. At that point, I’d purposefully fall asleep in your class.” 

Severus smiled. It wasn’t often that he joked with Draco like this, but he did know the boy was troubled right now. He needed this. “You’d better not. Or it’ll be two weeks.” Draco laughed a bit more at that. Once he’d calmed down he gave his godfather a small smile in return.

“No thank you, Severus. I’ll get more rest, I promise. Now, can I please be dismissed, "professor"? Draco teased. “Pansy and Blaise are probably driving the other Slytherins mad right now.” 

Severus was hesitant to let the boy leave- he wanted to figure out what was actually causing him so much distress. Knowing he wouldn’t get anything out of him today though, he said “Fine. You’re dismissed. But do keep to that promise; I wasn’t kidding about the theory work.” 

Draco chuckled before giving him a curt nod, and the two exchanged goodbyes before the Slytherin walked out of the potion’s classroom. Severus sighed once the heavy classroom door had closed. “Lucius, what in Merlin’s name are you doing to your son?” 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After Draco’s conversation with Snape he did, admittedly, feel better. His friends seemed to brighten at his lighter mood, and he was even able to joke with them more freely than he’d done in weeks.

He refrained from writing a lot in the diary during the next few days. Riddle didn’t seem to mind much. He just seemed to want to know about Draco’s day more often than not. After exchanging slight pleasantries, Riddle would usually end the conversation and bid Draco goodnight. Draco wasn’t going to complain about that outcome.

In fact, less time spent concentrating on the diary proved to be a good thing. For starters, he was able to focus on his school assignments with more effort. And he had more time to spend with his friends, and himself. He got to write a letter to his parents for the first time in a while. He smiled as he sent the letter off with Acelin; his mother would smile upon getting a letter from her only son, and Draco liked it when his mother smiled.

Narcissa had had a difficult life. She loved family dearly, and always wanted to attend family events. Unfortunately, most of her family had been taken from her during the first war- as had Lucius’s family. With her sister and cousin imprisoned, her other sister and her family ostracized from Pureblood society, and her final cousin dead, it was rather hard to plan family events. 

As a result, Draco really tried to be there for his mother. He understood how much he meant to her, and didn’t want to disappoint,-or hurt- her by being absent. 

Overall though, Draco’s life was going rather smoothly. Things started to look up. And indeed, they stayed that way when Draco was greeted by Marcus Flint on his way to the library the following week. 

“Draco. Is your father still donating to the team this year?” Flint grunted. Draco sighed, but nodded. The older boy laughed and hashly patted Draco on the back. Draco grimaced at that, but didn’t complain.

“So, I suppose this means Draco will be Slytherin’s official Seeker then?” Daphne asked, stepping beside Draco. 

Draco looked at Daphne in surprise- he hadn’t known she was joining him. The other second year Slytherins weren’t anywhere in sight, and she and Draco hardly spent time alone together. Now that he thought about it, it seemed as though the others had been trying to keep Daphne from being alone with Draco. 

Flint gave the blond haired girl a questioning glance, but answered her question nonetheless. “Yes. He’d be Seeker even if he was awful, just because of his father’s money. Luckily, he’d have been Seeker even without the money- he’s actually rather decent.” 

Draco smiled at that. He appreciated that Flint would think that of him, because he knew that once word got out that he was Slytherin’s new Seeker...everybody would just think his father had bribed the team to let him in. ‘Which he still did,’ Draco internally sighed. Nevermind that, he was going to prove to the accusers that he was a good Seeker regardless. 

Draco quickly snapped out of his thoughts to thank Flint. “Listen, practice is tomorrow. Sorry for the short notice, but I just couldn’t seem to find the time to talk to you until now,” Flint grunted.

“That’s fine, I’ll be there. Practice times are in the common room, correct? Draco said, waving Flint’s apology away. Flint just nodded before walking off. He was a very antisocial person, but he could get quite aggressive when quidditch was involved. 

Daphne hummed beside Draco, “Congratulations on your position on the team Draco. You’ll be brilliant, I’m sure.” Draco just gave her a nod in thanks. She smiled at him, and the two continued on their way to the library. “O.W.L.S must be tough, huh?”

Draco returned his attention to her. “That came out of nowhere.”

She simply shrugged, “Well Flint’s a fifth year...and he looked just as tired as you did this past week.” 

“I suppose your answer is in that statement then,” was all Draco said in reply. Now that he thought about it, maybe it was better that Daphne hadn’t been alone with him. She was incredibly smart, perceptive, and persistent. If anyone could get Draco to admit what he was doing with the diary...it was her. And his housemates must have realized this, and known he wouldn’t want to be questioned. So they kept her away from him- until now.

Upon realizing this, Draco immediately switched to the defensive. She had seemed awfully curious about the diary, and Draco couldn't afford to let anyone know about what it could actually do. “Yes. But who’s to say it wasn’t a rhetorical question? Small talk, and all that,” Daphne said, letting out a huff of laughter.

“For a Slytherin you’re terribly positive.” Daphne sent him a look of pretend annoyance, but instead just seemed to silently consider that remark.

When she seemed to settle on her response, she returned her attention back to him. “Why should I be another gloomy, angst ridden Slytherin when our house already has enough of those? I mean, I’d like to have a bit of a personality, thank you.” 

Draco just rolled his eyes at her. “I prefer to call it secretive, and scheming. Not, well...not somber, or anything,” Draco huffed. 

“Eloquently put,” was Daphne's snarky reply. Draco just continued to sulk all the way to the library as Daphne tried to contain her bubbly laughter. She came off as serious and studious most of the time, and she was. But when she wasn’t playing student or detective, she was a really thoughtful and buoyant person. 

When the two Slytherins reached the library they found a table quickly, and started to pull their assignments out of their bags. Daphne was working on Transfiguration, and Draco on Herbology. They worked in silence for a couple hours, but of course, Daphne broke it.

Abruptly she slammed her book down- earning a murderous look from Madam Pince. She winced, and gave the librarian an apologetic look. Afterwards, she turned to Draco and signaled for him to place his book down. 

Draco had been in the zone- intensely reading a passage about mandrakes- when Daphne interrupted him. With an internal sigh, he placed the book down. It would take some time to regain his focus anyways. 

Almost as soon as he set his book down, Daphne spoke, “Sorry about that Draco. I didn’t want to disturb you. But, well, we need to talk. Everybody else seems fine with ignoring the hippogriff in the room, but I’m not.”

Daphne’s tone had changed dramatically from earlier; she was playing detective. Draco knew the conversation would have something to do with the diary- how could it not? That didn’t mean he was looking forward to this conversation. Daphne was a sweet girl, and Draco really didn’t want to lash out at her. “Nobody’s ignoring anything Daphne. Nothings going on. I’ve just been busy with the research my father’s assigned.” 

“That’s a lie. I haven’t seen you check out a single book on anything non-school related. And I know you haven’t received anything in the post either.” With a slight pause, she continued, “The others don’t want me to bring this up because it concerns you and your family; and it’s not my business”- she said this in a mocking tone that mimicked Theodore’s- “but I’m bringing it up because I’m worried. You’re my friend Draco, and I know you hate talking about emotional stuff...but I can’t ignore this any longer.”

Draco was a bit awed by Daphne’s words. She seemed to genuinely believe what she was saying, but how could she? ‘We haven’t even really gotten to know each other- I’ve known Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore for far longer. Not once have we ever...talked to each other like this. About emotions, and expressing concern.’ 

And here Daphne was. Asking him a simple question for the most part- if he was ok. Practically pleading for him to talk to her about his concerns. Daphne hadn’t grown up with all the pureblood customs, and Draco decided that this was why she was looking at him like that. Worrying over him. And treating him like...like how the golden trio treated each other. 

Draco’s subconscious reminded him that it wasn’t only the trio who did this. Almost everyone seemed to be open with their friends, and the Slytherin’s weren’t completely different. They just did this stuff in private. Come to think of it, Draco "had" noticed Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore do this stuff before. 

Last year Pansy’s owl had died, and she was very upset. Draco offered his condolences, but otherwise just felt uncomfortable and awkward around the crying girl. He remembered the other Slytherin’s comforting her in their own ways. Theodore had talked with her, and Millicent and Daphne rushed off to the kitchens to procure some hot cocoa. Blaise just let Pansy hug him, and he quietly consoled her while she gave hiccuped responses to Theodore. 

Tracy had helped Pansy clean herself up when she stopped crying, and afterwards Goyle and Crabbe had attempted to tell jokes to try and get Pansy to laugh. They’d been successful, but only because the jokes were so terrible that Pansy couldn’t help but laugh. So, even his “friends” had done this with each other; he just realized they’d never done this stuff with "him". 

They didn’t have a reason too though. Draco wouldn’t dare to cry, and especially not in public. Lucius made it very known that that wasn’t something a pureblood heir did. Instead, Lucius taught him how to suppress those feelings, and now, Draco didn’t think he "could" cry. Perhaps tear up if he was in severe pain, but never cry. And certainly never cry over something emotional, or as silly as "his feelings getting hurt". 

And since the other Slytherins knew this they didn’t discuss emotional topics with him often, nor did they go to him when they were upset and crying. So no, his friends had been involved in these kinds of situations before (ones with concern and tears), but Draco hadn’t. The closest he’d experienced to getting involved with emotional discussions were when his mother showed him concern- and even then, he couldn’t stand it. But he did put up with it, only because she was his mother. 

But it turns out that receiving sympathy from another peer was worse. Daphne looked at him with that same soft, worrying look that his mum did. And that made him uncomfortable. She didn’t appear to be timid; just cautious. Draco felt his throat constrict. “The others were right. It’s none of your concern Daphne. And I don’t like emotional talk, so let’s move on.” 

Daphne scrutinized him, “You still didn’t object to my claims. You aren’t doing research for your father, are you?” 

Draco turned back to his book. He would pretend to be reading rather than paying his full attention to her. “I "am" doing research for my father. And I brought the required books with me already.” 

“That diary thing?” Daphne’s question made Draco tense. He really hated it when the diary was brought up in conversation. 

“Yes. I put my notes in there.” 

There was a long pause. Draco had thought Daphne had finally given up, but unfortunately for him this wasn’t the case. “There’s nothing in the diary Draco. No notes, no diagrams, no spelled in pages- nothing.” 

Draco felt a sharp spike of panic before it quickly turned to anger. He set his textbook down very slowly, and he looked up at the Slytherin girl again. Meeting her gaze, he said, “And how would you know this?” 

With hesitation, she answered him, “I looked at it. I know I shouldn’t have, but I needed answers.” 

He sat up quickly, shoved his book in his bag, and swung the aforementioned bag over his shoulder angrily. Not even stopping to push his chair back in, Draco stormed out of the library. Daphne was on his heels, and had called out to him multiple times. He ignored her.

Draco couldn’t breath for a second, and he was tempted to slow down. He couldn’t though, not after Daphne’s confession. He had to make sure the diary was safe, and that he hid it properly next time. 

Daphne caught up to him. Draco swung around to yell at her, but the last thing he saw was the girl’s blue eyes before his vision went black. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco was in the common room. His assignments were scattered around him, and the other Slytherin’s were laughing boisterously. A quill was in his hand and the parchment in front of him indicated that he’d been writing something. Upon further inspection, he noticed it was his herbology essay. Almost completely written. 

He read it, but couldn’t remember writing it. Any of it. The wording sounded like his- maybe a bit more sophisticated- but that wasn’t too noticeable. Looking around, Draco realized everyone seemed perfectly normal; he was the only one out of sorts. 

His breathing grew panicky, and he instantly recalled trying to run from Daphne. Had he fainted? No, that wouldn’t explain the essay, or why he was in the common room instead of the infirmary. Those thoughts only made him panic further. 

Draco heard his heartbeat in his ears- it was loud, and ringing. He couldn’t breath, and he seriously felt like he was going insane. Slowly, Draco managed to pack his essay up, and he (thankfully) found that his bag was next to him so he could put his things away. Doing this caught the other’s attention. 

“Going to bed already Draco?” Theodore had called out to him. Draco shakily looked over at his dorm-mate, and gave him a quick nod. On his way to his dorm he felt shakier than ever, and extremely nauseous. Perhaps this was why he didn’t notice the other student’s growing concern, or realize that he’d felt this distortion before. What he did notice though, was Daphne Greengrass. She looked at him with fear, and then turned her head away- completely avoiding looking at him. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been two weeks since that incident. Draco had reluctantly confessed his worries to the only person he could- Tom Riddle. Riddle dismissed it, telling him that school was just getting to him. Draco numbly accepted it. 

Draco hadn’t heard from Daphne since the library fiasco. She hesitated around him, and avoided him more often than not. But while she remained frightened, she also conveyed determination in her looks. She was still watching him- more than ever. And she seemed like she was on a mission. ‘What’s she looking for?’ Draco pondered, more than once. 

The other Slytherin’s remained relatively normal around him; as did Snape. He made sure to spend more time with them, hoping to quell their suspicion further. He didn’t want a repeat of the events that happened with Daphne, and he knew indefinitely that that would be the case should the others get suspicious and question him.

Nothing eventful happened. Sure, he had gone to quidditch practice last week, and the Gryffindor’s reactions were just as he expected them to be. Potter looked especially outraged, and Weasley was even more upset than Potter was. The boy had physically turned red with anger. 

The Slytherin team had egged the Gryffindors on, as expected. But Draco was still too terrified to really process much. He was afraid he’d lose his mind again. He remembered the golden trio- as well as everybody else, really- had looked at him weirdly for his lack of commentary. Briefly, Draco remembered the Granger girl insulting him. 

He didn’t process what she’d said. This only shocked the others more. Luckily, Flint rose to his defense- calling Granger a mudblood. He only remembered this because Weasley had tried casting some spell on Flint; since his wand was broken that decision had backfired. The other Slytherins laughed at the sight of Ronald Weasley sicking up slugs, and Draco probably would’ve joined them had he been in the right mindset. 

Other than that though, Draco ignored everything else. He practiced, and apparently he’d done well. Afterwards, he celebrated with the other second year Slytherins halfheartedly. It had taken him a week to finally snap out of it. Once he did, he ignored the concern lacing everyone's eyes- it wasn’t deserved, or needed. He ignored his godfather, and his housemates, and he ignored Potter also. He didn’t like the way those green eyes looked at him with curiosity, and worry, and speculation. They should only look at him with hate.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

By Halloween Draco was feeling much better. He had caught up with all of his assignments, and even scored well on his history exam. Most fortunately, Draco’s anxiety did not harm his academics. In fact, he spent more time studying and doing schoolwork in an effort to avoid people, so he wouldn’t be surprised if he surpassed Granger in scores soon. 

That fact brightened up Draco’s day. And with Riddle being mysteriously absent for some time, Draco was even happier. Draco was calm for the first time in awhile; the fact that the Gryffindor-Slytherin quidditch game was just around the corner gave him something to look forward to as well. With his new broom he was sure to beat Potter. 

The only thing that annoyed Draco was Lockhart. The man was a buffoon, and he couldn’t understand why all the girls seemed to be obsessed with him. The only girls who weren’t were Daphne, Astoria, and Millicent- from what Draco could tell. Then again, Daphne and Astoria were quite reserved; so even if they did like him, they wouldn’t show it. And Millicent wasn’t the type of girl who drooled over idiots. Pansy was pretty open about her interest in Lockhart- and her fascination with the man always made everyone groan when she brought him up in conversation. 

But aside from his professor being so incompetent, and causing him misery for having to listen to all of Pansy and Tracy’s gushing, he didn’t mind him. He found it hilarious that he was so set on befriending Potter- really, everyone could tell how uncomfortable Potter was with Lockhart’s antics. Naturally, it gave Draco one more thing to bully Potter about. 

Draco made his way to the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle; and this time he was just as anxious as the two boys to get there. The Halloween feast was fantastic, and Draco did like the decorations (even if they were invented by muggles). He supposed some muggles had a good eye, though he’d never admit this to anyone.

When the trio reached the Great Hall Draco made his way over to Blaise and Theo. The three boys started to talk about the upcoming quidditch game, and Draco loaded his plate with delicious foods. Absently, he noted that Crabbe and Goyle began to wolf down their already served portions while Pansy looked on in disgust. 

Tracy was talking with Millicent opposite Draco, and Daphne was sitting further down the table with Astoria and her friends. Eventually, Draco started up a conversation with Tracy on magic theory, but soon enough the conversation grew to include all the nearby Slytherins. Once that topic died down, smaller conversations arose. 

Draco should’ve known that he couldn’t be at peace for long. One moment he was listening to Pansy chattering on about the Ravenclaws, and the next he felt nauseous. He figured he’d eaten too much, but the feeling kept growing. Soon after, his vision started to dim, and his movements felt sluggish. No one really noticed, but Daphne did. 

Draco saw her staring at him- in that same determined way- before his vision started to blur as well. He fought against the feeling all he could, ‘I won’t cause a scene in the Great Hall, damn it!” But that just resulted in sharp pain. He winced, but continued to fight. Eventually the pain was too harsh, and the sickly feeling too overwhelming. Draco gave in. 

Next thing he knew, he was slumped up against a wall. Draco blinked around blearily, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a dull headache, but nothing too bad. He felt the same as he had a couple weeks ago- confused, and like he’d just woken up from a bad nap. This time, it was easier to quell the rising panic because he knew he’d feel it. Also, this time his situation was easier to explain. He had gotten sick in the Great Hall, and had been on his way to the infirmary. He must’ve lost consciousness on his way there. 

Pulling his hand away from his face he froze. At first he thought he was bleeding, as there was blood on his hand. But the blood was dry, and he didn’t feel any blood running down his face. He supposed the cut could’ve healed over though; but that would mean he had been unconscious for longer than a few moments- and couldn’t even remember hurting himself. But he must be hurt, otherwise...the blood was...no. He wouldn’t think that. 

Shaking off the weak feeling, Draco pressed against the wall and let out a shuddered breath. He just needed to compose himself. 

Once he felt better, he pushed off the wall and slowly made his way to the infirmary. He cradled his hand protectively, and looked around for any passerby. He didn’t want to be seen like this. 

Draco was lucky for a while, as he saw nobody in sight. ‘They must be at the feast still.’ But soon enough, his luck wore off. Draco heard three voices around the next corridor, and came to an abrupt halt. He recognized those voices...of all the times to run into Potter and his gang.

He peered around the corner cautiously, and gasped. Almost in sync, the Gryffindors had reached the conjoint corridor, and they too gasped. 

There, on the wall, was a message in red. And below that, in a puddle of water...lay a still Daphne Greengrass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the continued support, and wonderful comments! I appreciate it so much. I wish I'd been able to get this chapter out sooner, but classes have been busy lately. I apolologize for the wait, but thank you for your patience. As always, constructive critism is appreciated~ have a wonderful week!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I am a new creator, and I thank everyone who has taken the time to read this work. This is my first time writing a fanfiction, and I hope that you all will enjoy reading this. Please give me any feedback you all may have, either on the story itself, or my writing style. It will be greatly appreciated as I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing. I hope the story didn't start off too slow or anything, but I promise that it will pick up as Draco starts to interact with Tom Riddle (AKA, the next chapter). I'll try updating as soon as possible, though I can't promise that updates will be frequent as I appear to have a busy schedule at the moment. Either way, this story will be completed, and is only the first installment of it's series. As this series reaches fourth and fifth year, it should stop following the cannon plot and start treading in a different direction. Additionally, Draco will still act fairly similar to the cannon Draco for the beginning half of this book, as I figure he would until certain events pushed him to act differently. I'm really trying to move things along as naturally as I can, especially with character development. I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter, and stick around for the next one! <3


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